Collin's walk through London and VVestminster a poem in burlesque / written by T.D.

Collin's Walk TH •••• H LONDON AND VVEST MINSTER, A POEM in Burlesque. Written by T. D. Gent.

Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare Poetae, Aut simul & jucunda, & idonea dicere vitae. Hor. de Art. Poetica.

Licensed March 27. 1690. Rob. Midgley.

LONDON, Printed for Rich. Parker at the Unicorn under the Royal Exchange in Cornhill and Abel Roper near the Devil-Tavern in Fleet-street, 1690.

To the Right Honourable Peregrine Earl of Danby, Viscount Dunblain & Lattimer, Baron of Keviton, &c. My LORD,

THE Diversion that Collin has already had the good Fortune to give your Lordship at some times of leasure, (when being retir'd from publick Affairs you have honour'd me with your Conversation) makes him now presume to throw himself at your Feet, and withal, ingages me to appear in his behalf, Your Lordships most humble Petitioner: The little time of his being in Town, has not at all hinder'd him from the perfect Knowledge of your Character; that noble Nature, and uncommon Goodness, that generally influences and obliges not only those whose Merits have qualified 'em for such an Honour; but even others whose Malice and Folly have justly deserv'd your Contempt and Indignation; cannot be without the Extremity of base and partial Ingratitude, exempted from general Applause; and amongst the rest, has likewise so charm'd the Heart and Understanding of Poor Collin, that he rather chooses to renounce the whole Body of Presbytery, by exposing their Frailties to promote your Mirth, than endanger the misfortune of losing that part of your Lordships Favour, which his benign Stars have already far beyond his Merit blest him with.

Nor am I, my Lord, tho a Petitione • for him, the less an humble Mediator fo • my Self: This BOOK with which present your Lordship, and which confess was not design'd to please all Parties, having much the greater occasion to make its Court to you, 'tis my Happiness to know your Lordship to be of a clear and genuine Understanding, not sullied by the Town-Vices, of Malice, or unreasonable Criticism, tho capable of judging with the Wisest and most Correct, you will rather convince a Poet of his Error, by an easie Argument, than endeavour to raise the Structure of your own Wit, by crying down his, when he is out of your sight; And as your Generous Inclination to Arts, especially those of Poetry and Musick, incline you rather to favour and instruct, than detract or reprove a Professor; so 'tis impossible for the Muses to do themselves greater Justice or Honour, than to implore the Patronage of a Nobleman, so perfectly qualified, whose Soul agrees with Science by Sympathy, and whose admirable Vertue of good Nature, influences the Poetick Art like another. Apollo, and rather plants the Lawrel more firmly, than tears it from the Brows of any deserving Author.

The Satyrical Part of my Poem need not offend any one that is Wise enough not to expose himself: My Lines being (as the Eternally Famous Butler once said before,) like Salesmens Cloths, made for them only that they will fit; and with the same limit as Iuvenal allows his Satyrs:

Quicquid agunt homines, votum timor, ira, voluptas, Gaudia, discursus, nostri farrago Libelli est.

Your Lordships stedfast Opinion in Favour of the Church of England, gives me hopes you will be pleas'd the more with my exposing her Enemies; the Illustrious Stock from which you have your Being, giving you daily a noble Example of constant Candor for our Religion, as well as tender Love for your Country; that flourishing Cedar that has already adorn'd the Garden of one of our most lov'd and greatest Monarchs, and now by Sacred Providence transplanted into the Bosom of a second, no less affected and rever'd, do's not only appear the Courts chiefest Ornament, but its greatest Blessing; the spreading Vigor of his fasten'd Root, will make him still defie the Storms of Malice, and stand in spight of Fortune, whilst the Indulgence of his Genuin shade, nobly refreshes those ungrateful Creatures who pine to see his Height and Virdant Glory.

This Theme would almost draw me to a Rapture, did not a just Sense of my weak Abilities check my Presumption: I shall therefore descend from that lofty Tract, to beg Pardon of your Lordship for this Prolixity, and prepare Collin to entertain you with his Humor and Character, as also with the divertive Accidents in his several Walks, which I do assure your Lordship are entirely new, and I hope will afford you the satisfaction I expect they should: The Wit and Style I humbly submit to your Lordships Judgment, with unusual Joy to fall into such noble Hands, where I am sure to have generous Usage; your uncommon Affability, sweet and unaffected Behaviour, and modest Treating your Inferiors, ingaging the Hearts of all that have the Honour to know you, as well as that of

My Lord, Your Lordships most Humble, and most Entirely Devoted Servant T. D'URFEY.

THE PREFACE.

THE various Sentiments and contentious Discourses of the People, as well of Town as Country, being the undoubted Occasion of the daily Animosities and Discontents that perpetually rise amongst us, was the chief reason of my publishing the following Piece of Railery; in which I would insinuate to 'em the little Benefit and Advantage they do Themselves or their Country, by entring into Politicks and Grumbling against the Government, which (in the first place) they shonld rationally believe it is improbable for them to alter; and secondly if there could be an alteration by other means, should cautiously consider what benefit either their Country or themselves should reap by a second Revolution so unlike to be, without the severest Distresses that Blood and Slaughter can possibly bring upon us: Euripides says, Mens una sapiens plurium vincit manus; If therefore the success of all worldly Proceedings do's shew, that Prudence makes prosperous the Event of Human Actions, more than Railing or Violence, then I am sure all Grumblers are at a loss every Way, for they can only talk Seditiously, without effecting any thing, which in my Opinion is no part of Wisdom: or if they should happen to do any Thing persuant to their own purpose, it would unavoidably be either a Damage to their Country or Themselves, as the best Iudgment of the Nation believes, and so consequently in the second place can never be quoted for an Act of Prudence.

I therefore in the following Discourses between the Major and Country Collin, have in a Method of Railery expos'd the Humors of a Grumbling Church of England-Man, and an opinionated Presbiter, taking this Burlesque manner of Writing to promote the Readers Diversions in a greater measure than it could possibly be in a more solemn Stile; for I have taken Care both in Collins Charecter, and his Arguments to prepare a farsical Entertainment against Popery for the Brethren, and a pleasant Interlude against Phanatiscim for the Romanists, and shall be very well pleas'd if the Worthy Members of the Church of England will do me the Honour to sit down and Laugh at both, they having some reason to do so; as well knowing that some little time since, both the others did as much for them, with a more than ordinary Satisfaction. Tho the Characters may be thought Satyrical, yet is there no particular Reflection upon any one; nor have I maliciously expos'd any irregularity in the last Reign; or made any unmanner'd Remarques upon my Superiors, my sole Business being to rally my Country-Men into Union and good Humor; and to publish the Regard and Honour I have for the Establish'd Church, by explaining the Envy, Errors, Stubborness and Foppery of her two implacable Enemies, Popery and Presbytery.

There is nothing more common in this Age than Licencious Tongues, tho at the same time 'tis a receiv'd Opinion, That there is nothing more pernicious to the Government; every Illiterate Mechanick, that has but Stock enough to purchase a Dish of Coffee, has the Liberty, and as he thinks the Ability to judge of Politicks as well as the best of them that sit at the Helm.

The Generals Conduct in Ireland is good or bad as he pleases to fancy it, and the haughty Monarch of France is to be brought down, or continue in his Opulency, just as his admirable Iudgment thinks fit; 'tis from such as he the Scandalous Mint of False News is Coyn'd, which in this Town is always naturally so catching, that its infection spreads like a Tetter upon the ill blooded Vulgar; this sets the disconsolate Malecontent that has lost his Employment a Swearing; the Rich Curmudgeonly Common-wealths Man, that dams his Soul for six pence, a Railing; the Subtile Bribe-taking Lawyer, whose rich Crop is lessned by loss of the Dispensing Iudges, a Brawling; the Stigmatiz'd Quaker, Sneaking Anabaptist, the Incorrigible Presbyterian a Canting; the Squeamish Tender Conscience Parson a hopeing, and altogether to joyn in the admirable Chorus of Grumbling.

The chief Cause of which disquiet, is the Times distress, occasioned by the late Revolution; and the troublesome Taxes and Impositions, which must of necessity follow so great an Affair, as the restoring our Church to her Ancient Priviledges and Rights; nor can any true English-Man who has any Honour in him, reasonably grudge a part of his Fortune to secure the rest, his Country and Religion, or suffer them to be again in Danger for want of some small Contributions;

As if he thought she could not want Aid to her Title Militant; But was her Self so mighty grown, To fight her Battles out alone,

As our Friend Collin has it: And tho to the Common Sort, and such as are destitute of Reason, as well as Consideration, every Taxation and Imposition seems heavy, needless or superfluous; yet the more Iudicious know the Intentions of it, is to defend our Religion and Properties by a just War, and thence use the means the sooner to confirm a Peace to the People, which Peace cannot be procured without Arms, nor Arms without Pay, nor Pay without Impositions.

In the Major's Character, I have endeavoured to describe the Right Humor of a Male-content; he pretends to be of the Church of England, but cannot allow that her Ruine should be put into the Ballance against his Interest; let her lose her Rights a Gods Name, rather than he his Office or Commission, which makes him in his first Speech to Collin spleenatickly Argue,

Had it not for us better bin, If th' Pope or Devil himself came in; Than thus t'involve our selves in War, And plunge our Souls in endless Care, By needless emptying of our Purses, Make all our Wives and Children Curse us; And all these rowling Mischiefs gather, For Conscience, yet have none on't neither?

Which I think the Parties themselves will own is as natural Grumbling, as Heart could wish, or as they themselves could dictate; and if they ask me how Collin, whose Character is a Country Clown, and consequently sordid and illiterate, should be so good a Disputant to oppose the Major's Reasons; they may please to observe, that I have qualified him for Discourse, by Observations from his Father, who was a Divine, a great Logician and Philospher; and since it is certainly every Mans Duty, as well as every Poets to do as much as his Capacity permits him towards the Advancement of his Religion, and the Benefit of his Country, either by lessening their Enemies Reputation, or extolling the Merit of his own Cause, I hope every worthy and true English Protestant of the Establish'd Church (for I have no hopes of the Outlyers) will favourably allow the following Poem, which altho may not have weight enough to improve their Understandings, may have diversion enough pleasantly to pass away an hour or two: I confess, I dare brag much of my own true Practice of Religion; yet I design to shew in this, which 'tis I Honour, and which (whatever my Enemies suggest against me) was ever my Opinion to be the best in the World.

I hope also the Majority of the Natives of England, have Prudence enough to allow the same, and Honour enough to defend it against all Oppositions; for by that means they will the sooner bring all disquiet Male-contents to see their own Error, and by a general Union of Hearts and Tongues, restore their Country to that Happiness which fatal Discord, and unreasonable Grumbling at present deprives it of: I hope I may with Reason believe the Oppression our Religion receiv'd, was the only Cause of the late Revolution; and also hope the King and our Iudicious Patriots will henceforth so settle it, that it may never again be in Danger; and therefore what good, violent Animosities, or any rash Undertaker can propose to his Country or Himself, by indeavouring an alteration, I cannot understand, nor I think any one else who prefers prosperous Peace, before unnatural Dissentions; and a Civil Community before a Civil War.

It has been a receiv'd Maxim, That whoever have endeavoured to suppress by Violence an alteration in Government settled by the Iudgment and Concurrence of the Major, and wiser part of the People, which I hope is the Case now, have in all Ages promoted their own Ruins, without any success in their Undertakings. Cosmo de Medices, having gain'd an extraordinary Reputation in Florence, the Citizens imagin'd that to suffer it to increase was dangerous, and therefore by common consent banished him, which violent Proceeding so offended the Friends of Cosmo, being it seems the stronger and wiser Party, that they afterwards forc'd his Enemies to recal him, and make him Prince of the City. The same happen'd in Rome, where Caesar at first for his Virtues much admir'd and follow'd, became afterwards to be fear'd, and those that fear'd, not considering their Power to be inferiour to his, endeavouring to supress him, were the occasion of his greater Glory. I insert these Examples only as Parallels that the Male-contents may see their own Ruine will not be only inevitable, but the Government settled the stronger by their rash Attempts, and pointless Aspersions; nor need I publish here the blessing of Union; every Mans Interest and Safety, being now best able to inform him, how extreamly necessary it is to make the best of our present Fortune, by a Dutiful Obedience to the Superiours that Heaven has set over us.

To conclude, The rest is to desire every Critick, that is pleas'd to do me the Honour to read the following Piece, to allow me as much of his good Nature as he can well spare, assuring him there is nothing in it to offend him, or any one that will pass by the same sort of Railery, that has been us'd formerly; for the better explaining of which, I have at the End of the Book, written Annotations to every Canto, which tho to the Learned may be needless, may to others be useful, who design to consider Honest Collin according to his Merit, whom if I find well receiv'd by the Party I intend him to divert, I will in the last three Days of my next Part, carry to Westminster-Abby to see the Tombs; to Gresham-College to admire a Virtuoso, and to Bedlam, to give him occasion by that Epitome, to make the better Remarques upon our Nation, and particularly upon his own Tribe, the Contentious and Irreconcilable (tho indefatigably Devout) Brethren.

ERRATA.

PAge 4. line 2. read make, p. 5. l. 3. r. Gnomon, p. 8. l. 14. r. his, p. 12. l. 13. r. thrifty, p. 15. l. 14. r. fram'd, p. 47. l. 18. r. t' instruct, p. 74. l. 14. r. for neither, p. 75. l. 1. r. yeilded, p. 83. l. 3. r. these, p. 113. l. 11. r. likeness, p. ibid. l. 19▪ r. the Tract, p. 148. l. 15. r. to view, p. 178. l. 10. r. me think.

COLLIN's Walk, &c.

Argument of the First Canto. Two Characters the parts Extolling, Of th' Jacobite and Country Collin; Their hot disputes almost to Rage, On the Transactions of the Age; The one exposing Popish Crimes, The other grumbling at the Times; Till that true Methods might be known, They both resolve a March to Town. CANTO I. WHen Fate by Modern (a) Abdication, Begun to cheer the blubbering Nation; When Grandees fled for fear of Sledges, And Constables Enacted Reges; Whilst the shorn Tribe at fatal Rumours, Got to St. Tyburn, or St. Omers; When crowds by Zealous Instigations, Beat down the Priviledge of Nations Like rotten Tubs, or empty Casks, The bowels burnt of Popish Mosques; And their (b) bold Chief that led them all, Proudly had scorn'd his Quondam Stall; Where often he with gore Embrew'd, Had done his hungry Country good. To manage now the Potent Rabble, Spred in Battalions formidable, Who can express what fears did cripple The Hearts, as well as Legs oth' People? Especially the Country Rout, By Ignorance more expos'd to doubt, Who when their Garlick Votes they give To Coin a Representative, Tho the same time no Rhubarb purges, So much as choosing of the Burgess; Yet having don't by wise direction, Resolve to stand by their Election, And for redress of grievances In clusters join like Sawsages; Some thirty thousand, that for sense O're rated are at thirty Pence; Amongst their Rural Myrmidons, This tawny Tribe of Adams Sons, That met in Troops to make Confusion, Rather than help the Revolution, Two only shall their Merit force, To make our subject of discourse. The first a doughty Major was In th' North so known for Clumsie Grace, 'Tis said he once went very near T'have been Elected Knight o'th' Shire; Had not Fame blabb'd in his despite, And nois'd him for a Iacobite, A Modern Title us'd of late For grumblers at the turn of State, Who itching to be Loyal thought, Makes freedom and Religion nought; But e're we to his mind digress, 'Tis fit we write his shape and dress, Both being rare in their extream, And aptly suiting with our Theam. His Noddle was of largest size, Which show'd its owner wondrous Wise, Since bounteous Nature took such pains, Th' apartment should not crowd his Brains, As Watches that are deepest made▪ Show best the Artist at his Trade▪ The Springs and Wheels within that lurk, Having more room to do their work: So Nature his capacious Skull, Still in his own opinion full, Like Fabrick built with studious care, That Wit might take good Lodgings there. His Nose altho not sprouting from The honour'd Naso's of▪ Old Rome, By which they were esteem'd endow'd With Wisdom and with Fortitude; Yet was the Gnomen of his Face As Famous in another Case; And tho no Type of Roman power, Had much o'th' Grandeur of a Moor: Large, Round, and flatted by his Nurse, As Traders use (c) Bollonian Curs: His Face not skinn'd with finest Leather, Like Warriour form'd to keep out weather. By Wars abroad and Pox at home, Indented like a Honey-Comb; Where plain the dreadful marks did show Of dint of Scab and dint of Blow. And as fond Lovers make appear That in the Dimples of the Fair Small Cupids Lye, with pointed Darts To storm the Fortresses of Hearts; So Mars Inur'd to do hurt, Lay frowning here in Flakes of dirt; And danger peep'd from every Cell To make him look more Terrible: Upon his Chin no hair must grow, Which made some call him an old Beau; For Man of War, as wanton was At Fifty, as a Colt at Grass; And had not th' Times his honour fegu'd, As often now had been Intrigu'd; Surpriz'd and Charm'd his Martial Genus, With the gay charms of Nuda Venus; And tho the lower end of's Face, By Barbers Art lost hairy Grace, Yet at the upper end there lay Abundance thatch'd like Stack of Hay, To guard his Eyes, of greenish Grey; Besides lank Tresses an Ell long On Poll, to shew the Sampson strong. His Person best observers deem Of portly Stature, tall and slim, With parts of large extendure born, To look o're Hedges and view Corn▪ Or in a crowd at Country Fairs, Peep o're the rest at Cudgel Players; But was in Actions Brave or Wise No more than those of lesser size; Nor had he worn ('tis said) that height, But for his Nurse that took delight To make him sprowt as fast as Hops, With a strong Broth of Nettle-Tops; A Learned way to lengthen Youth, As Daizy-buds to stint the growth. Thus was his Person deck'd by Nature, Thus dignified with form and feature; And thus as Nature did her best, So Natures Taylor did the rest, Making his outward Garb agree Just with his Souls (d) Oeconomy▪ His Coat was of that bloody hue, That in past times did Fields imbrew, On which did discontented lye, Some sparks of old Embroidery, That flourish'd in their glittering state▪ In the sad Year of Eighty Eight; But now by dint of Fortune's flaws, As torn and tatter'd as the Cause. His Wastcoat was of stubborn Buff, ▪Some say Fuizee and Ponyard proof, Lin'd aptly to defend Contusion, With sullen hardy Resolution, Where Muff hung fast with Gauntlets in, Made of an old tough Badgers skin▪ And since 'tis neeedless to expose His Stockins, or describe, or Shooes, Or Legs, or Feet, since't may be guess'd They were Synonimous to th' rest, We'll spare their Vertues or Defects, To fall upon his Intellects. First, that his Mind his Person suit, He was much gifted in dispute, And whether of Rome's Church, or Greek, Or English, or he were to seek For any (as 'tis very rare To find Devotion in the War) I know not, but affirm it shall, That he durst argue on them all, Himself with his own Tenets please, And those he not confuted, teize. In Politicks and Poetry, So great a Critick none, as he; Bold in conceit, in humour strong, Would back his Judgment right or wrong. Tho still his chiefest Talent lay Disputing in the Martial way, None e're like him so perfect were, In fighting o're the Civil War; He'd tell what past then or before▪ From Edg. Hill Fight, to Marston-Moor, With all their Actions and their Names, From Cromwell to Unlucky I— As readily as I can tell, The Names oth' people where I dwell; Most famous too of all the Nation, In Methods of Fortification, Renown'd abroad, and had been once At th' Siege of Gravelling, and at Mons; And seen besides t'exalt his Joy, (e) The Works of Famous Charleroy, On which you need but tip his Tongue, To hear a Speech of six hours long; Loud and unweary without stint, Which tho no truth, had method in't. In th' Mathematicks he was right as That Noble Artist fam'd (f) Archytas, And spake as learnedly his part, As he, in all the Terms of Art. He'd tire your Ears with (g) Pentagons, With Bastions, Ravellings, and Half Moons, With Counterscarp and Parapett, Rampires and Horn-works make you sweat; And all your Out-works would Assail, With his Eternal Swallows Tail. In brief, there was so much in's Sconce Cry'd up by all the Romish Sons, That all the Senate and their Sense, Their Threatnings and their Punishments, Stopt not his grumbling at the State, Altho he ne're could tell for what. In this Wise Rank, where few are Sager, Full of himself, appear'd our Major, Who tho discarded from Command, Did great in Self-opinion stand, And in some close Cabal of's own, Each Night turn'd Nations upside down, Incourag'd by grave Instigations, Plots and Dispersing Declarations; And caus'd poor Clod pates wanting Reason, To be whipp'd for't and sent to Prison, But shew'd discretion great as Valour, To keep his own Neck out oth' Collar. Yet still to further what he could, And stir the Factious Party's mood, Would blow Dissentious Coals to burn, In all he found fit for his turn. Thus was our Man of War endued, With parts as popular as shrewd; Whom now we'll leave the Scene to vary, And treat of his Contemporary. Under a towring Hill, as steep As ever yet broke Neck of Sheep, Or lifted Beacon to disclose The bold Invasions of our Foes, A snug and thirsty Mansion stood, Quite Muffled in a Verdant Wood, By Houswise Nature there design'd To Nestle Rooks, and keep off Wind; And tho the well thatch'd Roof a Storm Could balk, and dwellers keep from harm, Upheld by the assistance good, Of Post of Oak, and Wall of Mud; Yet its best Refuge were the Trees, In Winters cold Extremities. Here Collin liv'd, Collin the Great, Of whom we now make haste to treat, In happy Solitude possessing Ceres and Flora's chiefest Blessing. And tho Fate here no Empire sent, Yet was there its best part content, And Collin paying Rent in Pennance, For being one oth' Majors Tenants, Himself as Absolute still saw As any Duke of Modena, And manag'd yearly in his Hand, Tho not his Titles, as much Land. A Wight he was whom Nature made, When she was tir'd with too much Trade, And in the hurry slipt away, Not half made up the lump of Clay: And as the Major some nice Eyes Diverted with his Maypole size: So Collin often us'd to do, With Pigmy Corps as much too low. His face could brag true Symmetry, But that it chanc'd to want an Eye, Thump'd out in Shire they call Cornwall, With (h) hurling for a silver Ball, A surly pastime which they frame To Match the Old Olympick Game, And tho that loss in a Town Beau Would never be lamented so; Who when he'd charm a Ladies heart, With one Eyes glance performs the part, Yet this no Rule in Collin was, Who feelingly bemoan'd his loss, And wish'd for Eye agen to see More than for Ogling faculty. But since no Cure could be by Art, He put the rest in Mourning for't; For up to t'other Eye the Bare Was muffled with black tufts of Hair, Sworn foe to Scizars or to Razor, And Savage grown as Nebuchadnezzar. His bulk was larger made by Nature, To make amends for Dwarf-like stature; But then as if she swore his Ruine, And had forgot what she was doing, Each foot like an unnatural Brother, Was running still away from t'other. And as great Masters toil with those Who Dancing turn not out their Toes, So he to walk like other men, As often toil'd to turn his in. Wise Providence, his useful parts Fam'd not to Captive Ladies Hearts, But gave him able arms and back, To Weild a Flail and carry Sack, And in all Stations active be, Adapt to prudent Husbandry. In which wise Art ▪is storied of him, No Person e're was rank'd above him; Not (i) Tusser fam'd for Rural Wit, Nor he the lofty Georgicks Writ, Tho ne're befriended so with History, Could outdo Collin in his Mystery. He knew that Land lying South South West, Still for the Purchaser was best; By Thistles tall'twould fertile be▪ But small or short, the contrary. Knew when young Plants were weak or strong, Could make Hops grow with Pidgeons dung; Setting and Sowing tell t'a Day The Hops in March, and Flax in May, And tell the lucky hour with ease In February, for Beans and Pease; Search the hid Nature of the Moon To find if Plants were set too soon; And manage wane or waxing State, As if she had bin his Intimate. He'd tell what Bullocks fate was Tragick So right, some thought he dealt in Magick. And as well knew by wisdom outward, What Ox must fall, or Sheep be stoter'd. Nor was this all, for he as sure As he Destroy'd, had skill to Cure, If any of his Flock were seiz'd By heat, with wrigling Disease, By sheering off the Wool upon't, And rubbing Dust in Fundament, The curb'd Distemper reign'd no more, And he was sounder than before. In Gardening too he could discourse, Profoundly skill'd in Herbs and Flowers, Knew Wormwood good to Murder Fleas, That Honey and Water nourish'd Bees, When Winter Tempests ill befriends, And numbs with Frost their Fingers ends; Nay, even the Hogsty could not alledge One fault in's Universal Knowledge. He knew to treat a friendly Guest, White Pig that Sucks before the best, And ne're was found to be mistaken, In which was best for Brawn or Bacon. In fine, he lov'd the Herd so well, He oft would to his Neighbours tell, That one in's Stye was near Relation, To those destroy'd by (k) Dioclesian. Thus in the Ancient Georgick Lore, Was Collin famous, and much more Than did with his course Garb agree, In Mystical Mythology. For he his outward dress declin'd, To add perfections to his Mind; And often wore, like Tatter'd wretches, A Coat with several colour'd patches; With Breeches germain to the Hide, Whence the Thong came by which they'r ty'd▪ A Natural and Careless habit, Made to hunt Otter, Fox, or Rabbit; But at a Fair, or on Lords-day, Would blaze in Manufacture Grey. Inspire me Phoebus, to repeat here The great parts of this little Creature, Which Heaven did so profusely give, And cramm'd in Corps diminutive. His Father was a grave Philosopher, That many a Mystick Book did toss over; To know the Essences of Creatures, Of Flowers and Fruits the hidden natures; Of Bodies too the Species all Homo or Heterogeneal: Had been a Preacher, but turn'd out, For being more learned than devout; For leaving of Divine (l) Drexelius, To ponder on occult (m) Cornelius. Whilst closely studying the Black Art, The Parish Ign'rance broke his heart. He was the first could prove that Magick Did lesser hurt than prating Logick; Since one you compass knowledge by, And t'other teaches ye to lye. That th' Sybils by that Art did know Of Christ two thousand years ago. That Magi was the Name exprest, The three Wise men came out o'th' East: And that Magicians scorn'd the Devil, And held no commerce with things evil; Tho our illiterate vulgar Loobies, Will swear he daily sucks their Bubbies▪ He also knew that (n) Zoroaster, Was first that did this Science master▪ Which soon improv'd by Trismegistus, And others that were fam'd Assisters: They prove Mysterious Magick lyes, On three substantial Faculties. Whose Theologick Influence, As well as Mathematick Sence, Proves use of Sacred Reason there, As well as Sun or Moon, or Star, And that 'twas Enthusiastick folly, To think things impious mix with holy. Thus gifted was our quondam Parson, And tho our lately publish'd whoreson Could not those subtle seeds acquire, That sprung and flourish'd in his Sire; He had to ballance t'others arts, A double stock of natural parts; And Politiques, Statute Law or Civil, Could argue like a little Devil. As for Religion, that was best That suited with his Interest: Sometimes for th' English Church pains taker, Dissenter next, and oft a Quaker: For that with him did best agree That was like him, most slovenly; He took first method from their Clothes, And next their snuffling through their Nose: Read and knew all their ablest men, From Naylor down to William P—; And could discourse emphatickly, On all their Canting Sophistry. In brief, to sift him nearer home, He was all Sects but that of Rome; Sworn by his Sire their Tribe to hate, As once was (o) Hannibal the Great. Not Hunters to the wearied Hare, Not Fox to Dog, nor Dog to Bear, So fatal was, nor fear'd a Guest As Collin to a Baldpate Priest, The Ancient Creeds he could maintain, Whither th' Apostles or Nicene: By dint of solid Argument, Confound their Council too of Trent, And could knock out as with a Club, The very Brains of their Transub; By plainest Proofs and common sense, Deny their seven Sacraments; And to the Church of Eugland do The Right▪ to prove there are but two. When Humerous Will, or Quaking Zeal, For Interest made him not Rebel, None could be more a fam'd Instructer, Bawl or Dispute more like a Doctor. This Inspir'd Wight, this more than Span, This Renown'd Microcosm of Man; Major with Counsel Grave and Hearty, Strove to bring over to his Party. And now upon the same concern, Was come to th' door of an Old Barn, Where Collin that at Thrift was early, Was filling up a Sack with Barly; Who after common Complement, Of how dee, Nod, and thank ye, spent, He looking up, and seeing a Sager Grimage, than us'd in face of Major; Desir'd him to the House draw near, And taste a Cup of his March Beer; Which being with surly grace agreed, Away they march with no great speed, To enter into Parlour low, Built for convenience more than show: The cleanly inside of the Room, Declar'd its Friendship with the Broom: For as in Palace built with Cedar, No Spider e're can be a breeder; So here where Rue with Rushes lay, You were as fafe from sawcy Flea. The story of the Prodigal, Instead of Arras, deck'd the Wall: With Proclamations mix'd, and Votes: The Suffering Phiz of Righteous O—. Ienkins and Naylors Exhortations; And Grizzels Ode, so fam'd for Patience; The thristy owner did invent For cheap and comely Ornament. When having given Thirst its due, And each had quaff'd a quart or two; Then for a while, like Topers bred, Look'd Wise, and no great matter said: The Major first began to open, And rouze up Collin, half aslopen. Quoth he, the ferment of this Beer, Which we have drank so largely here, Presents me with an apt occasion To descant on the srothy Nation: The Genius of the Land throughout Being much like a large Bowl of Stout: For as strange fumes of Brain make seizure Of those that in excess take pleasure; Which oft cause Rage, & sometimes Scourging, Qualms, Head-akes, and obscene disgorging; So sares it in this Revolution With some that nourish'd the Confusion; Who may perhaps spew out with leisure, What they took in with so much pleasure; For as none know what cramps our Toes, So well as we that wear the Shooes; And none can judge of Courts or Factions, Till they have studied their transactions, Is plain; yet that I may not be Guilty of blind Temerity; From the first Juncture, to this moment I've doubted something ill would come on't. At this the subtle Collin scratch'd His Crown, with Sable Tresses thatch'd; And smil'd to find his Landlord Tory, Still pumping him on the old story. But to hear more, thought the best way To give him Line, and let him play. As skilful Fishers make a shift To tire what is too big to lift. This thought was just agreed upon, When strait the Major thus went on. I came (said he) of a good kind, So much to Charity Inclin'd, That even Vagabonds and Mumpers, Have from my bounty had full Bumpers. The Blind and Cripples in the Street, I've oft reliev'd with broken Meat; And many a Christmas Wassel Bowl, Has felt the largess of my Soul. Nor am I only thus inclin'd, There is a Bounty of the Mind, Which th' Ancients call Humanity, Still so predominant in me: It th' first excels beyond all price, That offers Alms, but this Advice▪ And tho best Rhetorick seems dull, When th' Hearers belly is not full; Sure ours that are, may give us leave To hear, and if we hear, conceive. Thou hast for some months past been falling, As surely as thy Name is Collin, Into the most absurd mistake, That ever sense abus'd could make, And 'twill be difficult I doubt, With all my skill to help thee out; For as men drowning, wanting sences, Drown those that come to their Defences, When if they would leave off their plunging, They might be freed from watry Dungeon▪ So I, perhaps, befriending thee, May bring my self to jeopardy. Dost thou not see, thou lump of Nature, Thou ill▪contriv'd, unfinish'd Creature, What Ruines this late turn has made, By Taxes, and by loss of Trade, When still the weight of Court Ambition, Falls most on those of thy condition; ▪Tis their tough hands must help the Cause, Their Labours back the Church and Laws, Else all the Trooping Men of Blood, 'Tis thought would do but little good. Had it not for us better been, If th' Pope or Devil himself came in, Than thus to involve our selves in War, And plunge our Souls in endless Care, By heedless emptying of our Purses, Make all our Wives and Children curse us; And all these rowling mischiefs gather For conscience, yet have none on't neither. Did not a Doctor t'other day, That since has been forbid to Pray, Declare the War to us would bring, More ills than any Romish King, And tho he now is Silenc'd for't, The Phrase was pithy, tho 'twas short. And many more of the same Mould, That Orthodox Opinion hold, Which tho they Mouth it not in Halls, Is frequent in their close Cabals, Where they whole Kingdoms, with delight, Turn topsy turvy every Night. But thou because thy poring Head, Has learnt to set a mark and read; Canst tell when Sheep are to be shorn, And brush the Mildew from green Corn; Because thy Father, as I hear, Was thought to be a Conjurer, Dar'st to our Party give offence, With dull Inervate fumbling sense, And on wrong side thy self discover, When I have pray'd thee to come over. Quoth Collin, That I am a fumbler In Wit's as true as you are a grumbler, Yet dare affirm, tho with submission, You are as bad a Politician: Dreams, Whimsies, and unquiet Brains, In all your buzzing Party reigns, Which makes ye argue, rail and fight, And think y'are always in the right, When I can prove substantially, There's none of ye so Just as I, For my Religion is not known, That yet I e're did plainly own: Yet am so far your Churches friend, I can her principles defend, ▪Gainst all would break or make a flaw, In Creeds Establish'd by the Law; In all revolves and turns of State, Decreed by (what dee call him) Fate. What's War but an Extream to try, To do the Nation Justice by, When the Necessity o'th' Cause, Exacts Defence of Church and Laws? For who dares boldly own a Church, That dares to leave her in the lurch? Pretend he's willing to ensure her, Yet grudge at Taxes to secure her, As if he thought she could not want Aid to her Title Militant, But was her self so mighty grown, To fight her Battels out alone, Whilst all the while the fewds occurred, Because, perhaps, y' are not preferred? The Nation's in a lost condition, Because y' have lost your late Commission; Or that the Senate takes occasion, To question some late Court Relation, You'd seem to abhor Popery, Yet hate that any Change should be; Neglect the Souls Divine Profession, By scrupling Temporal Succession; Destroy your Peace and Countries both, By kecking at th' Allegiance Oath; And tho the English Church you own, Still do your best to run her down. Whilst I the Lump, th'unfinish'd Cripple Prove more the Champion of the People; Discovering of a firm neglect Of all your stubborn grumbling sect. I Popery thrash, as with a flayle, And tell a plain and open Tale; Whose bare-fac'd Reason soon shall be, The bane of all Priest Sophistry; Confute their (q)Baptism, Confirmations; Their Matrimonial Consecrations: Their Eucharist, Orders, Extream Unction, Their Pennance too? that worst Injunction, With all the other Foppish Geer, As easily as drink this Beer. When you, that should perform all this; Since that Religion you profess; In grumbling clubs, your rancour shew, And now would have me do so too. The Major at this devilish shock; Look'd red, as any Turky-cock; And spite of all his subtle Arts▪ Quite dash'd and stun'd, at Collins parts; But on a sudden, recollecting, And slyly knowing the neglecting Of what was said, would look most wise: After a fleer or two replys. Quoth he, when ere thou get'st half mellow Thou art the plaguiest little fellow: The soundest Arguments in vain Attempt to storm thy Pericrane, No proof, tho ne're so much in season, Can ever bring thee to hear Reason, For as 'tis vain, to grease their Chops With dainties, that are fill'd with Scraps: So bitts of Logick, here and there Quirks and old Saws which thou dost hear; Cram thy conceited brain so full, Tis sense lost to trepan thy scull, Thy prick-ear'd Sire taught fallacy, Andth ou by nat'ral Industry, Framing a Lye, canst make it prov'd Art's Cousin Germain once remov'd: For tho thou twit'st me with my pause Of Action, in the Churches cause; My grumbling at th' unquiet times, Taxes, and disobedient Crimes; And slyly wouldst thy self imply, A better friend to th' State than I: Ile prove, that know the Cheat too well, Thou'rt of a sect us'd to rebel: A Canter, an assembly Man; A true blew Presbyterian; And sometimes as the Saints agree, A Quaker for variety: I know thou canst our cause dispute: Thou can'st, but didst thou ever do't? Vast odds there is to either faction: Betwixt capacity, and action; Strong Decrement, and difference too: Between I can do't, and I do: Have I not known this many years? Thy Love to th' Tribe with the long Ears, Where primming Sister, Aunt, or Coz; Tune their warm Zeal, with Hum and Buz: And bobtail'd Rogues are zealous at it, On purpose to affront the Statute. Did I not hear thee splutter once, Because one call'd Hugh Peters dunce, And swear that Chaplain of Old Noll Out-preach'd the Bishops, at White-Hall: That Baxter's call to th' Unconverted Had force, even on the marble hearted: Nay, in unhappy I—s's days Thou didst, or I'me mistaken, praise His acts of Grace, who stil'd ye Friends, Because ye suited to his Ends, And knew to ruin th' Churches hope; Rather than them, you'd bring the Pope: How comes (I fain would know) th' Abuses? The jarring late between the Houses? But by your party Synogoguish, Not half so Politique, as Roguish; That for their Interest, or, for Hire Make Brands, to set us all on fire: Yet thou a little shrub, or worse, A block for one, to mount a Horse; A Hodge-podge of the Sciences, Design'd by fate, in wits disgrace, Darest with bold confidence direct me, And tho my Vassals contradict me. Quoth Collin, Tho I am your Tenant; Take heed how you affront the Senate: And so by Testy Will misled, Bring an old House upon your head. As for my self, what's said of me, My Person, or Rusticity; It only gives me leave to guess, The force of your uneasiness: Shrub, or what else to me's the same, If men can know me by that name: And tho you're fram'd more large by nature, What are you tall Boys ere the better? Unless you mean, to pride your selves For reaching Cheeses, from high shelves. Hows that? quoth Major, Hold quoth Collin I am not such a Knipperdollin; Not to allow as the case stands, That you are stronger of your hands; But that your tongues, your heads, or hearts, Your judgments, or your other parts; Excel in virtual faculty: Craving your pardon, I deny. Then granting that I am a Whig: As you the question seem to beg: It there should get the upper hand too: What Church I ever own I'le stand too; This war would little have to do: Would all you grumblers do so too, I am for Union in the Main: What ere opinion I maintain: For Englands wrongs, can nere be righting, Where fractions are, and disuniting: Joyn all against the common Foe: And then see what the French can do; I heard a tale related once, Of an Old man that had three Sons, Always at Jarrs, and making pothers; That is, agreeing just like Brothers: He having long observ'd their tricks, One day a bundle fetch'd of Sticks, And bad each severally take it, And try with all his force to break it: This being not likely to be done, He then to each of them gives one, Which was, with very slight endeavours By each as quickly broke in shivers. My Sons, said he, such is your state, This is the Emblem of your fate; In union joyn, you danger shun; But sever and you're all undone. Zounds, quoth the Major, I am well Acquainted with this parallel. But how can we a union make? When no one knows which side to take; To make the Reasons better known: Let's both resolve a march to Town: And that I'me generous, thou mayst say, I'le bear thy charges all the way, There, if thou dost not find such Flaugers, Such Scoundrels, Pimps, and Pettifoggers; Such Crowds of Priests, in Parson's Gowns; And 'gainst the Government such frowns: That shall thee to their side unite, And fix thee for a Iacobite, Thou shalt no more be rul'd by me, But I'le come over, straight to thee. Agreed, quoth Collin, I shant win, Or lose ought by't, now Harvests in; And tho there is an aukward Fear Hangs o're me, cause I ne're was there, That my Behaviour may not yoke, With the nice Princums of that Folk: There's one that will my pains repay, That owes me Twenty Pounds for Hay: Pleasure with Profit, say the Ancients, Is best, when we take care o'th main Chance; And tho I am not so Exotick As he you call a Rank Phanatick: Yet I must own the pleasingst Duty Is, when Religion's mixt with Booty. This said, they top'd off t'other Quart, Then for that Time agreed to part, Major to get his Horse, and Pistols, And Collin too, to furbish his Tools; Resolved for th' Town their Course to bend, And a whole week in pleasure spend; Now mouldy Boots, well suppled were And dragg'd from Grass, the Py-ball'd Mare, Pannel with Girts on either side, And Head in Halter trimly ty'd, Expecting when her doughty Rider Should Settle either Leg beside her, Which in a day or two being done, And Collin with grey Jacket on, And long Toledo hanging just At hand, well oyl'd to hinder Rust, Made his first Onset on the way, To meet the Major Cap-a-pee: The Neighbours thought, they saw a vision, All wondring at their Expedition; And every clowted Plowman stares At Collins Graces, and his Mares; Where now we'l leave em, to pursue The Journey with our mighty two: Who after three days tiresome Jogging, On Sunday even found their lodging. An Inn, where Guests well treated were Near to a place call'd Temple-Bar: When having set their Horses up here, And took an Egg or two for Supper, Each soon complain'd of drowzy Head, And by agreement went to Bed, Where tired Nature Sleep repairs, And locks their Sences from their Cares. But what befel them when they rose; The Second Canto shall disclose. The End of the First Canto.

MONDAY's Walk. Argument of the Second Canto. The walk begun, the Rabble flock Round Collin, at Saint Dunstans Clock; Who arguing on the naked Figures, Was likely to be whipp'd like Beggars, Till Major out of Christian Pitty Reliev'd, and drag'd him into th' City; Which happening on a Lord Mayors day, They both fall into another Fray. CANTO II. NOw had the Goddess of the Year Long flourish'd in her Summer Geer, And envious Autumn in Revenge With dust had spoyl'd her green Fountange, When our two worthies came to Town: To make their different Tenets known: Who, having risen from their Couches, Awak'd with London Cryes and Coaches, Their Host in getting Breakfast busied, And to their Steeds made formal visit; From Lodging door, they march'd away, To make the Progress of the day, And passing under Temple-Bar, Collin whose business twas to stare, Oagling about, on t'other side Over the Gate, aloft had spy'd, The Image, of that Royal Maid That forty Years this Nation sway'd: Defending it victoriously, Against the Devil, and Popery, This object had so charm'd his Noddle; And tip'd his Tongue to begin Prattle, There would have been a speech no doubt here, Had not the Coaches throng'd about here, So thick they did of force prevent His Honours, and his Complement, Besides a Jogg from th' Major, who Now found, 'twould be some work to do Justice, and make the Mob forbear Jibes on his fellow Traveller. Near th' place where Shoals of Lawyers live, And by the Subjects ruin thrive, There stands an ancient House of Prayer, Which is by those inhabit near; Eclip'd St. Dunstan's, and so nam'd From that blest (a) Saint of old so fam'd; That with the Devil, hand to fist, Once argued on our Saviour Christ, Who finding all the proofs but fictions, That Satan, tho his Contradictions Were answered, yet, would still oppose, Made bold to take him by the Nose, And right the Church, and his own Wrongs With a huge pair of Red-hot Tongs: Since when his fame so much is priz'd, And by the Town so Canoniz'd: His Piety, and Worth's exprest Even from the East; unto the West; His Picture publish'd, and his Power, From th' Chappel, to the Tavern door. Close to this Holy Wall there stands An Engine built by human hands: To shew the depth of mortal Sense; And prove Mechanick Excellence: Two Savages arm'd with Battoons, On Bells, make here alternate Sounds, T' express the Power of Art sublime, And shew us how we waste our Time, Daily, by this we teach our Eyes, Or Ears, the proper Time to rise; And as much stands us too in stead: Instruct us when to go to Bed; The Town so much is rul'd by this, Some Students make Hypothesis, That did it not the hour repeat, Men knew not when to go to Meat; Or take it in a nicer way, Not when to dine, or when to pray Such Miracles it could impart▪ By mystick Horologick Art: And now had drawn great numbers thither, Of all Degrees, commixt together The naked Savages to see Perform their hidden Mystery; Who yearly had the hour made known, And Day, and Night, each quarter shown. Amongst the Crowd, this fam'd devise▪ Had now attracted by the Eyes Collins concern was none o'th' least: His precise Sense could not digest Figures so near the House of Prayer Undecently should stand so bare, Therefore tho Major backward drew him Fore-knowing what would happen to him: With voice most audible, and high; Thus eas'd himself, on those were by, I am, quoth he, just come to Town: And if I had before-hand known, What I perceive now comes to pass, My Mare should ne're have stirr'd from Grass▪ At least, to give me the Occasion Of noting this Abomination; Well may our Brethren rail at Churches, When thus their guilty Walls, and Porches Are slandred, with the Effigies Of Savage Beasts, and Nudities; What greater Sin can be? or folly? Than to mix Shameful things with Holy; Where Saints and Cherubs should have been, To place two Fiends with parts Obscence; Who but for Rag tack'd round the Wast, Would even from Sences fright the Chast, Those that will take the pains to read May hear of(b) Aethiops indeed, Where those of either Sex still wore, No other Robes but flaps before; And if they met Friend or Relation, To shew their breeding, 'twas the Fashion To turn the Flap a little by, And shew each other Courtesy, Which pass'd as well with them, as now With us, a Courtesy or a Bow; In Affrick this might apt appear, But 'twould be Devillish manners here: Suppose this Savage swoln with Pride, Should Beast-like turn his Flap aside; Which, with this hand he might as well, As with the other strike the Bell; What shame would that be to a Nation? That boasts of a true Reformation, If merit (as 'tis said) be known By the discreet Behaviour shown, A gentile or a surly Boar Found by his Porter at the Door, How much more in our preaching Houses, Ought we to punish such Abuses, When wicked, rude, and beastly Forms Idolatrous, the Wall adorns. This said, with hoarse ungrateful tone, He look'd about to get a stone, Fully resolv'd to be revenging The Cause, upon that savage Engine; But finding in the stubborn street, The Flints were all to fast to get, His wonder greater than before, This urg'd fermenting rage the more, What strange uncouth and barbarous Nation, And to what cursed Generation Am I arriv'd, where I must see, And not rebuke Impiety? Where even their stones deny Assistance, As if they thought 'twould be a Mischance To trample on that Idol Log, That Savage Heathen Demagog, That with Intention lewd, as vain, Stands tinckling with those Bells prophane. How far do we excel with voyces Bells, Organs, and such carnal Noises? When pious Sister strains her Graces, And tunes her Treble to our Bases; Devotion needs no artful aid, For when the sacrifice is made We're sure our Zeal to Heaven doth go, Whether it be in Tune, or no: Tho the harmonious part we knew, Be as Dogs howl, or as Cats mew: Aid me then Friends, and quickly I Will maul that Type of Popery, That Engineer of Belzebub, That Roman Hercules with the Club, That stands there to amuse the Nation, With hourly seats of Conjuration, Aid all I say, to rout this Pagan, This second Cheat of Bell and Dragon; For those that not assist his fall, I pronounce Slaves, and Cuckolds all. Scarce could the wrathful Collin reach, To the bold Finis of his Speech, But all the Crowd were drawn about him, Some to admire, but most to flout him, Mongst whom, a Carman that stood by And long had gaz'd, with envious Eye, On that ungrateful mein of his, His strange attire, and stranger Phiz; Thus loudly made his Anger roar: Thou Son of carted Northern Whore, Thou Splaysoot, blind phanatick Rogue? How dost thou dare? to disembogue Thy filth, without a thousand lives, Against our Credits, and our Wives; In all this stuff thou hast o'rerun, What hath thy canting dogship done But rallied on an harmless Clock, That in one hour, more truth hath spoke, By help of those assisting clubs, Than all your Tribe in all their Tubs? As I can plainly make appear From the Creation, to this Year: But since you come(Sir Presbyter) From Ploughing to affront us here, Tis reason, being met together, That we should give you welcome hither. At this his whip with knotted Lash Lifted by arm as Strong, as Rash, Round Collins shoulders (c) smartly twang'd, And thrice the well wove Russet bang'd, E're he would give him leave to breath, Or Bilboe good from case unsheath; Which now being brandish'd in the Air, Resolv'd, lost honour to repair, But all alas • in vain, for now; The Mobile had rumour'd how That Collin's Zeal had been so foolish To swear, the Church he would demolish. And all were closing up to thump him, Or as a newer sport to pump him; When Pallas (d) who design'd to save If possible, the brains she gave, From sturdy tough Battoons that batter, As well as Cataracts of Water: Whisper'd into the Majors Ear, To act a Wapping Press Master, And so his Neighbour off to bring, Under pretence to serve the King, This plot was put in Execution, Just as those clods of Resolution, That filthy nest of suburb Vermin Were thronging up t'assist the Carman, Who still in spite of Collin's drawing, Was back and sides with Whipcord tawing, Till Major by the trick aforesaid Releas'd him, tho perhaps with sore side, And drew him from the Crowd away, As if he'd send him straight to Sea: But scarce had they a Furlong gone, From place where this bold feat was done, When Collin that with Whipping fight, Felt himself but in evil plight; By th Testy Major was harrang'd And with as sharp brow beating bang'd. Is't possible, quoth he, thou dull Insenble Jolt-headed Fool, That thou darst ever have pretence To any Argument of Sense; Yet be so sordid thus to get, A flauging, by meer want of wit, Canst thou, O Dunce, discover Flaws And Failings in the Nations cause, Yet not be gifted to be able Through Prudence, to avoid the Rabble, That thus have whipp'd thee like a stock, And for the silliest cause, a Clock; Why? what a Devil had it been To thee, if Peter (e) Aretine With 〈◊〉 his Nudities, and Postures, Had deck'd the Walls or inward Cloysters? Or if those Figures there that tell The minutes passing, on that Bell, Whom thou compar'st in senseless chat To Ethiops, and the Devil knows what, Stood there, exposing Bums as bare As first, we too the Midwife were; Was it for thee with that one Eye, To peep into their Privity, With solid Considence reveal, What they with Aprons do conceal, And sawcily, become Director Of Temples, and their Architcture, Revile the Church, and run it down, Because thou art thy self of none; But like thy Tribe of canting Widgeons, A Gallimaufry of Religions; Make the establish'd one to feel, The claws of blind Republique Zeal: And so procure for thy own back A just reward, of stripe and thwack, Laid on with such entire good Will, That had not I with dextrous skill, Appear'd i'th' Nick to help thee from't; As thou art slasht, thou hadst been pump'd. Pump'd, answer'd Collin, pray impart, The meaning of that Term of Art; Lest I should construe it amiss, And think it worser than it is. Pump'd, crys the Major, who might see By this, his Neighbours Vacancy, His Ignorance, and gross Defect; In the Town Tricks, and dialect, Pump'd in my sense, is cooling Courage; When th' People for diversion, or rage; Do punish Pick-pockets, or Whores, For filching, or too fond Amours: A decent Guerdon too for Bayliffs, That lurk in close By-Lanes and Alleys, Or lye perdue in some blind Alehouse, To nab some needy honest Fellows: But being seiz'd, and hamper'd first; Are carri'd straight to quench their Thirst, To a strange Wooden kind of Fountain, That doth great store of Water contain; And there without a cup to fill, Are forc'd to drink against their Will, When great Civility appears, If they get safely off with Ears, To men the Sourse on th' head descends, But th' women on their nether ends; Cold Water being thought from thence, Best purger of Concupiscence: And thus had it not been for me, They certainly had water'd thee. Quoth Collin, that abhorr'd Invention, As modern Histories do mention, Was first made to revenge a grudge Ow'd to the English by the Dutch; Who at Amboyna sew'd in Leather, Were gorg'd with drink, whole days together; And now to further bearish powers, Is learnt by th' English Sons of Whores, A Race most famous known to be▪ For Mastives, and for Mobile; 'Tis true indeed this Canine usage, Was customary in the Iews age: But in a sober Christian Nation, Shews little like a Reformation; Where purblind Rage no Judgment grants, To know the Sinners, from the Saints: But impudently turn Correctors Of men, design'd for their Instructors: Blindly to every mischief bent, Affront the civil Government; Which was in this late turn design'd, For the relief of all Mankind: In which if I cou'd once mistrust, One false step, or an Act unjust; A siding with our Roman Foes, Or breach of Coronation Vows; That falshood, I should ne're endure, But turn a Grumbler too, as you are; For Loyalty is not still the same, If we are cheated in the Game: Nor can the Dials truth be known, If it be never shin'd upon. Action makes Virtue greater be, Than its dull Passive Quality: Or else my late Affronts, and Stripes, Which of my Merrit are the Types, Were as propitious and as kind, As if I had done the thing design'd: Which tho by-standers should receive, I should in my sense believe, Reason and Argument are good, Just only as they're understood. This was the prize, which late I sought, And my Instruction prov'd my Fault. He (quoth the Major) that would teach The Rabble Reason, with a Speech, Is like one pleading to a Fry Of Barbarous Arthropophagi, Or singing Sonnets, or Love Tales, To a rude Race of Canibals; When all he gets by his soft Sport, Is th' sooner to be eaten for't. With such Discourse, as true as witty; They got into the heart o'th' City, To the best Mart in Christendom, Nick-nam''d the Old-Exchange were come, A place renown'd for the Access Of Nations, and of Languages; Citts, Saylors, Sheriffs with Gold Chain; Cuckolds, and Common Council men; Lords, Lawyers, Livery-men here meet, And one another daily cheat: And tho it doth in Records appear, That the Foundation is but Pepper; The upper part makes great amends, Which shews to their admiring Friends, A Row of English Queens and Kings, With Globes, and Scepters, and fine things; Some whole, and some through Anger broke, As if they had disdain'd the Yoke Of Royal Slavery, 'mongst those, Who their Obedience Passive, lose, But amongst all the mighty rest, One plac'd alone below, look'd best: Charles by command of divine Grace, With lofty Mein, and Lyon Face, Stoood Solus, as if thought to be Too good for t'others Company. No sooner had the Major seen, The Furrows of that Phiz serene; When with his Eyes fix'd on the ground, He made a Reverence so profound, That Collin firmly did suppose He toucht the Pavement with his Nose: Then stepping back to former station, To Figure Royal, begins Oration. Thou best belov'd of all thy Race, That stands i'th' cold to deck this place, Permit me with a due Complaisance, At thy great Foot to pay Obeysance; Behold me here oppress'd with Dolours, A tatter'd Remnant of thy Colours; A poor Disbanded Officer, That once for thee did Half-pike bear: And tho the quiet of thy Reign, Kept me from Fights where men are slain; None e're in Peace did Dirt-pye Storm More fierce, nor seats of War perform. True happiness no Age can have, Whose Monarch is not Wise and Brave; The witty Coward, or hardy Fool, Being equally unfit to rule: And both of these thou didst enjoy; Or one that could 'em both supply. Hadst thou but miss'd Fit Apoplectick, I question whither a French Sceptick, Would at this day have found our Nation, A Subject for his Contemplation; That Wit that always bubbled us, Had found a War Incongruous, And ne're rely'd a future Reign On dint of blow, but dint of brain. Ah! Wer't not for the Nauseous Tools, Thy pimping Knaves and cringing Fools, Heaven ne're thy equal gave to sway, A Land so gifted to obey: Scarce did the florid Major reach To this part of his lofty Speech, When through the Repercussive Air, We're heard the several noises near Of squealing Fise, and sullen Drum, As if some Enemy were come. This odd surprize began to scare Collin, not us'd to sounds of War, Till the bold Majors heart of Oak, This pannick trouble did rebuke, And took him thence to make their Eyes, And Ears, true Judges of the Noise: Which soon as they got off th' Exchange, Were fill'd with accidents more strange, The Street was fill'd with numerous throngs' Of all Sects, Qualities and Tongues, Shapes, Ages, Factions, and Degrees, Bedaub'd and daggled to their Knees; And more to grace the days renown, Carpets hung out, and Windows down, And as if Pompey were to come To Triumph here, as once at Rome: Balconies full as they could hold, Of Rich and Poor, of Young and Old, All crowded in a Lump to see The approaching great Solemnity; Fire-works with whizzing noise and smothers, Diverting some, and scorching others; With scent Ambrosial of Salt Petre, Serv'd here to make the Pomp the greater: And as an Emperour, (g) or Fame lies, Was famous for his sport with Flies▪ So here Nobility in Garters, Were throwing Squibs amongst the Carters, Which though the sport be mean, 'tis true, Is much the Manlier of the two, Danger accruing oft this manner; And where there's Danger must be Honour. The Major, whose stout Heart would not Have budg'd an inch from Cannon shot, From this Plebeian sort of Fire, Engag'd his Wisdom to retire; For as the Noble Beasts of Prey, That in wide Ardens Forrest stray, Whose Rage no Weapons e're can tame, Are frighted at the sight of flame, So he from his first Infant Bib, Was scar'd at th' Entrails of a Squib, And through half prudence, and half fear, Retreated now to corner near, With Collin, where they all might see, Without the burning Jeopardy; Where skulking close from harm perdue, He thus began t' unfold the shew: Quoth he, these Fire-works do display, That this must be the Lord-Mayors-Day; And see 'tis further now confirm'd By Whifflers, with white switches arm'd, Who march before the Members tough, Of th' old Artillery in Buff. Observe how well their Feathers shake, And how the Damsels hearts do ake, To see their Apron'd Loves with Pride, In Scarfs (as sine as can be) ty'd; See then the Custard-eating Currs, Set up in Pillories of Furrs, With Saffron Phiz, and Malmsy Nose, Come after, two and two in rows. Note here the City Pride, but hold By that Caparison of Gold, That loads the Buttocks of yon Beast, That sure must be my Lord at least; 'Tis so, those two that there beride him, And with such Graces Prance beside him, In Pomp Infallibly Declare, Themselves the Sheriffs; he the Mayor, That for a Twelvemonth acts a King, And when that's ended, Any thing. View next the Aldermen in braces, With honest, and with loyal faces, Wrapp'd round in Furr from arm to arm, To keep their Wit and Courage warm. Our London Magi by perception, More potent than the Old Egyptian; For as they could to any Nation, Breath good or ill by Divination, So ours by Necromantick Purse, Know when the times go well, or worse, Raise or build Forts both strong and stony, By mighty Magick (that is) Money. What's that, quoth Collin, preeping out, Hearing them make another shout, That glitters so amongst the folks; Quoth Major, 'tis the King, Gadzookes: His Coach, I mean, and he within, And what's more glittering, the Queen. I warrant thou seest nothing now; A Pox upon thee, thou'rt so low, Thy groveling Eyes no sight can use, Above the Lappets of ones Shooes. At this the little Imp, on's back And shoulders high, a pick a pack He strongly sets, that he might see, With ease, the face of Royalty; Which just as he to do prepar'd, A Member of the Shirtless Guard, Was letting off a Squib so near, It almost touch'd the Majors Ear. Not great Achilles, when he found Upon his Heel the Mortal Wound, Which Paris, of Old Priams Race, Foreknew the Vulnerable place, Had half the Lust to be revenging, As at the sight of Whizzing Engine. The Major, who with thump on shoulder, Oth' Hand just ready to fire Powder, Straight threw the Machination down, With Collin, who was Ogling round, From Back, where he exalted sate, Like Wren upon the Eagles pate, To find out glorious Majesty; But now reduc'd to low degree, By th' Major, who with sudden start, Aside, had thrown him into th' Dirt, In kennel sowc'd o're Head and Ears, Amongst the crowding Wappineers. Who can express the rage and pother, The Rabble made, that saw their Brother, By the fierce Major thus affronted, Thus struck, and Fire-work thus dismounted; Who following Dictates of first fury, Unmindful of approaching hurry, By that Vile Type o'th' Powder Treason, Enrag'd and scar'd beyond his Reason, Boldly, tho rashly, still made head Against the Wight that did the Deed. Who having sense recover'd now, So late amus'd by pondrous blow, Couragiously retorted back, Stout Cuff for Cuff, and thwack for thwack, So quick, that as in Homers Verse, If you'll believe what he declares, When Hector with blunt Ajax buckled, In six hours fight, yet neither Truckled; The Gods that were of either side, Look'd down with Joy to see the fight. So those that had nought else to do, 'Tis very probable might know. The blood that follow'd eithers blows, Had yet not injur'd much their Clothes; For Fate, that Acts of War disposes, Made all the hurt light on their Noses, Till Venus, who of all the Bodies Coelestial, is the kindest Goddess, And for God Mars's Gallantry, Ow'd a good turn to Chivalry, Petition'd Iove, that th' Major might Have now the better of the fight: Which had effect, for Iove that knew her, And ever had a kindness to her, Not only as she was his Daughter, But in another kind of matter, Had now resolv'd upon the manner, To right the Major and his Honour. Now fist and face in conflict met, So hard the noise rung o're the Street, The glorious Wreath of Victory, Neither seeming yet to be, When th' hardy Major, skill'd in Wars, To make quick end of fight prepares, By Strength or'e buttock cross to hawl him, And with a trip i'th' Inturn maul him. But Breeches Ag'd could not defend, Fierce tugg of hand so us'd to rend, But yielding up Posteriours bare, To th' Victors power, and open Air, Who with the gripe so strong did seize, That down he came on hands and knees, On whom the Major gets astride, Swearing he'd ride him through Cheapside. But scarce had he that Pennance nam'd, When the rest o'th' Mobile asham'd, To see their Brother thus o'recome, And make a Pageant of his Bum, Were driving Collin up before 'em, To revenge Breeches on him tore 'em. He from hard Shooes, and harder Clubbs, Had got some stores of kicks and drubs; Some laughing at his Beard and Mien, And some his Russet Gaberdine, Which they resolv'd from back to slice, And each to carry off a piece, To make full restitution For Damage to their Comrade done. This fatal Mischief so well hatch'd, Had bred worse ills, had not Iove Watch'd The time when Groves of Clubs came on, And Major had drawn (h) Dirundan, To send a Troop their strifes to quell, Commanded by a Constable; A Wight of Conduct great, and Powers, Especially at Midnight hours, When in his Wooden Throne he sits, To judge without, of others Wits, To put the puzzling questions too, Of whence d'ee come, and where d'ee go: And when the minutes Twelve repeat, Profoundly tell us that 'tis late; Then with his Guard in State retire, To Smoak and Tope by Sea-cole fire. This Warriour, with his Cavalcade, Came up to give his timely Aid, Just as the Crowd afresh were falling Upon the Major and poor Collin; Who e're reliev'd from their distress, Had got some fifty thumps apiece, But now were freed from bruise and shame, And Pris'ners made in the Kings made. And as Delinquent here of late, A bawling Cormorant of State, Was friendly refug'd in the Tower, To save him from the Rabbles power▪ So they in Cage, tho base, yet safe, Were fix'd, and from the Foe drawn off: The homely place was much unfit, For so much Valour, so much Wit, As being a Mansion that receives, Few else but stragling Whores and Thieves; And now unfurnish'd did appear, Without a Couch, or Stool, or Chair, Till th' Major found a heap of Stones, On which he plac'd his batter'd Bones; And Collin, to his comfort, saw In corner, a small heap of straw: Where having sat him down for ease, His drooping Head 'twixt Hands and Knees, He ponder'd on th' Unfortunate And various turns of Humane State. Some minutes then erected sight, And seeing the Major in ill plight, Who tho he got the Victory, As many bruises had as he; Well knowing he had now most cause, For Argument, thus broke the Pause: How well, quoth he, by this late passage, That has befaln us without presage, Do I the various frailties see, Incumbent on Mortality. Is't not a Miracle to find, In th' solid part of Human kind, So few that can appear so wise, To act the things they can advise? But that they must to dangers run, Which they have others taught to shun, And so convince us by the way, That no Men know the Truths they say? Was I not rail'd at, call'd a dull Insensible Jolt-headed fool, For acting of a far less fault Than that which has us hither brought? And shall I not, with reverence low, Presume to ask who's the Jolt-head now? Whose Wit has brought us to this Palace, To which the next place is the Gallows? Altho 'tis true, 'tis better far Than to be drubb'd as late we were. If solid reason in a Speech, Could not their fordid Judgments reach, But that I suffer must the Lash, From Scoundrels Ignorant and rash, 〈2 pages missing〉 For all has hitherto befel, I might have stay'd at home as well. I thought when we to th' City got, I should have heard off some new plot, Seen some Cabal or Popish frolick, Or hear the Grumblers cure their Collick, On which, with argument prevalent I might have exercis'd my Talent, Or when his Majesty came by, And I was mounted up so high, Your sudden tumbling me down Dash'd my Aspring at the Crown, I thought my Eyes might soon caress him, And that my Tongue might cry God bless him; But miss'd both—for i'th' contrary, All that has been my luck to see, Is my self here well whipp'd and kickt, And now pent up in durance strict, Where we like Ratts are shut together, To chew on th'bait that snar'd us hither. What think you Sir, if we should try To gain our quondam Liberty? By knawing of their bars and stones, Or force the Locks with ruful Groanes; Provoke mens pity on our cases, By peeping out with bearded faces; Tho us they'd ne're the sooner bail out, Than vermin when it puts its Tail out; Yet this would full as wise appear, As th'action that has brought us here. Quoth Major, thy late smarting pain Has caus'd the Sharpness of thy Brain, Which I because I did procure, Have now more patience to endure. Coagulated blood doth settle, And oft put bounds to manly mettle, Till stirring action sets it free, To shew acute Ability. Thus thy late warming exercise, Makes thy Orations now more wise; For as 'tis said in Poetry, Each fancy takes its best degree; When we with jolly Bacchus joyn, And raise the Genius high with Wine, So solid beating without doubt Is the best cause of wise dispute, The Soul and Spirits being more Alarm'd than they were before, Nay, fear of beeting may in some Produce the same, as once at Rome, For as, when Cataline a League Had made the Senators to fegue, And (l) strumpet had told Marcus Tully, The close intentions of that Bully, He not so much the cause revenging O'th' State, as t' hinder his own swinging, Made the best speech to quell that strife, (Tis said) that e're he made in's Life, Since when, 'tis sound upon Record, In th' (m) Tragedy, writ word for word: So thou since frighted by the Rabble, Hast spoke like him most admirable, And tho my Wit thou dost explode, I will not by a (n) Palinode My reason in a deed repel, Because it has not happen'd well, Fortune the curse of human lives, Still, against greatest merits strives, Fools she is ready to advance By luck, or dull Inheritance; But th' wise from rugged Rock and Shelves O'th' World, still leaves to help themselves, And tho this latter Enterprize▪ Through passions heat show'd not so wise; Twill spight of Fate some honour have, For no one can deny 'twas brave, And valour is not priz'd the less, Because sometimes it wants success; No more than worth in running Horses, That through Misfortune lose their courses. Here, Major stopp'd, but not through want Of Wit, to further his complaint, But that he saw the Wight appear, Whose Charity had plac'd 'em there, Who to the Major kindness bore, Because he had been one before, In th former civil wars, tho now, Compell'd to an Estate more low, Keeping a Cottage for good Fellows, To quaff off cares in, call'd an Alehouse, Who now with grace and good assurance, Releasing both from stony durance, Entreated 'em now they were loose To accept a lodging at his house, They who with bountiful dry basting, Knew well their bones had need of resting, As readily receiv'd the offer, With as good will as he could proffer: For, now had Sol his vigour lost, And tir'd himself by riding Post; And to the Regent of the Moon, Resign'd the Empire he laid down; When our two Worthies came with hast, To Cottage deck'd with sign and post; Where I will leave 'em both to snore, And rest my Muse as once before. The End of the Second Canto.

TUESDAY's Walk. The Argument of the Third Canto. Bruiz'd Collin now his walk does choose To Westminster to hear the the News; But being by the Weavers frighted, From thence to Dinner is invited; Where finding as disputes arise, A Iesuit in strange disguise: Th' harrangues between him and the Priest, May serve to furnish out the Feast. CANTO III. AS no Man ever undertook To give a reason for ill luck, So 'tis as difficult to all, To know the time misfortunes fall; Or guess the Crisis of our Fate, In various turns of human State; This by our worthies late was prov'd, Who now from Lodging being remov'd; Where Major nobly paid the Shot, And return'd thanks with parting Pot: They now resolv'd their course to steer, For the fam'd Port of Westminster, When Landing near the Ancient Hall, Where Clients sweat and Lawyers baul; And entring bluntly, Collin sees, A crowd of Folks of all degrees; All buzzing too and fro like Bees. A confus'd mixture of all Nations: Fleers, Cringes, Nods, and Salutations; From Lords in debt to Purple Judges, And Coopees low from Pauper drudges: Whispering, Laughing, Threatning, Railing, Imprisoning some, and others Bailing; From Serjeant grave, with busie Face, To dagled Gown that hides an Ass; Degrees of Law both high and low, Made here the substance of the show; As soon as Collin entred in, All Eyes were cast upon his Mein; Unless 'twere those that aspire Before, to gaze on his Attire: Some did his Beard with Oagling greet, Others admir'd his Erring Feet; And all believ'd a just occasion, To have his parts in Admiration: For Beauty and Deformity, Are equal still in this degree, Tho not alike the same desirers; They always have the same admirers: Nor was he much concern'd at this, Believing they admir'd his phiz; As if from thence they subtly guess'd, The hidden vertues in his breast: Consult the World and you shall see Most People, share this vanity; Who when upon 'em others gaze Believe 'tis for peculiar grace; When it may often chance to be Directly for the contrary: But to go on, whilst Collin there Drew all the opticks far and near, Upon the outworks of his person Some through distast, but most diversion; The Major gave him a soft Jogg, And thus began the Dialogue. Within these Walls thou may'st, quoth he, Note the great Worlds Epitome; Where all degrees of humanes bustle, And one another strive to puzzle: The most prophane, and most religious, Here being equally Litigious; There where that noise the People draws, Has been the wrack of many a Cause, Where many a Client Verdict miss'd, For want of greazing in the Fist: Those that fit there in State are Judges, And those below 'em scribbling drudges; Those there in Quoifs are titled Serjeants, With Clerks that hang upon their Margents; Defending right of meum & tuum, And when men offer wrong to sue 'em: Here Justice does or should prevail, And hold to all her equal Scale: The oppress'd from Lawyers gripe to free, And weigh by Drams their honesty. For Law is still to th' Wise reveal'd, Just like the Wax with which 'tis Seal'd; Not as the Causes right upholds it, But as the Lawyers Conscience moulds it. Harder or softer as he pleases, According as his Clients greases; And tho 'tis sometimes fit no doubt on't, Yet they're most happy that are out on't. For Law and Physick ne're should be Us'd but upon Extremity. Yet amongst all whom this Confusion, This sudden wondrous Revolution, Has rais'd and better'd in their State, 'T has been the Lawyers chiefest Fate; By Fortunes turn as quick as strange, To reap most profit by the change: They thrive upon the Peoples Sins, Their luck exceeding other Mens; And what in th' last Reign was uncertain, Is now a fix'd and solid fortune; Those that at pleasure were ut ita, Are settled now durante vita: High Magistrates which by a Word, Or Mandate from the Soveraign Lord, Were silenc'd straight as mute as Posts Fear nothing now, but th' Lord of Hosts: Releas'd from Arbritray Awe, And guarded by the Bulwark Law; This station therefore where such trust is Ought to be sway'd the more by Justice, For as no one should be less doer Of hurt, than he that has most power: So Law to which such power belongs, Should be least ready to do wrongs. Quoth Collin, that Law should do right I think there's no one will deny't That's in his Sences, and to shew That I believe it doth do so, I've just thought on a Neighbours case That's very proper for this place, Who has by lawless will his Spouse Misled, and taken from his house; And by a snivelling Whore-master Detain'd without all Sence or fear; If therefore Justice here doth sway, As I am apt to think it may, Why should not such a cause as this? Be su'd in Forma pauperis, And so by damages, procuring, Make Fop pay soundly for his whoring. Quoth Major, of all suits desended, Paupers are still the worst attended, Tho Justice always equal be, She's best in humour with a Fee▪ And cannot be if that's neglected So diligent as is expected: As money makes the Mare to go, Even so it makes the Lawyer too, Directs his Judgment right or wrong, Raises his wit and tips his Tongue, And makes him fit to plead the cause, And better understand the Laws; This makes a Rabbi of Fourscore, Ride dagling all the country ore, Who plagu'd with Palsie, Stone, and Gout, Without the use of hand or foot, Yet cannot leave the bawling rout, But must, as being us'd to trudge, Still go the Circuit with the Judge, Which he'd ne're do, thou mayst rely on't To get a Pauper for his Client, Or leave alluring golden Fees On Conscience score, or Charities; He that would Adversary teize, And goes to Law without good Fees, Is like old Fumble that would wed At ninety years, a buxom Maid, He may well tire each Limb and Joynt, But he shall never gain the point: A Maidenhead being to get as nice, As without Money good advice. And tho I can't deny the case Is very proper for this place, Because that lately by report, There was one try'd of the same sort, And many a Lawyer was pains taker Twixt Cuckold and the Cuckold-maker; Till the Jury weighing the disgraces, And that it might be their own cases, Their favour gave with Sence adorn'd, Not to the (a) Horner, but the horn'd; Attoning by a swinging Sum The unpardon'd sin of Cuckoldom: Tho this be true, as plain it appears, Yet neither of them, both e're was Paupers; The Devil might have had the Wise, If money had not made the strife, And brought the Lawyer in good Fees, And th'Husband hopes of damages; By which we plainly may unfold, No Law is currant without Gold. Here Major stopp'd, and Collin wou'd Most fain have answer'd if he cou'd, But now being got to th'Stairs that went Up to the Court of Parliament, Was fain to stifle each Conceit, And end the politique debate, To mount the steps, and hear relation Of all the grand affairs o'th' Nation: Here as below the People walk, And only differ in their talk; Being here of Kings and Armies boasters, As of Writs, Suits and Fines below stairs, And of as many humours as At Babel there were Languages; The Men of Politique Intreague, The Grumbler and the sullen Whigg; Grave Bishops, Barons, Baronets, The Guillians and the Iacobites: Tho they could one another Eat, With Conge one another greet; Amongst the Captains the discourse is, Of (b) Schomberg and the Irish forces; Each striving plain to make't appear, What he would do if he were there; And that the General is too slow, In giving Battle to the Foe: On t other side were Cits complaining Of Taxes, and the House Arraigning; Wishing the Members hang'd, or drown'd, That gave three Shillings in the Pound; In brief, th' crowd from side to side, To th' Major seem'd disatisfi'd; Which being not able long to hold, He instantly to Collin told; Believing it a proof most plain, To shew the Nations grumbling vein: And therefore thus renew'd, I here Have hopes (my friend) to make appear; What I have argued of the Tumour, Now swelling in the Nations humour; Who tho the Members now are sitting, And those too of their own begetting: They cannot yet perswade their patience, To bear the weight of these taxations; Hadst thou just now you fellow heard, That Crop-ear'd (c) Citt with the Red Beard▪ How he his spleen did loudly vent, Against the King and Government; Thou wouldst by that one speech have found, The Sense of all the City round: For as in Hunting, if one Whelp, Finding the scent, begins to yelp; The rest o' th' pack will instantly, Joyn altogether in the cry: So when one Citizen sets abroach, A whim, the rest are bound to vouch, Through friendship, else it would imply; A breach in their Fraternity: One Swallow makes ('tis true) no Summer, Yet one Tongue may create a Rumour; That in few days may have the power, To influence a thousand more. Quoth Collin, I should heed as much, A Ballad that was Sung in Dutch; A Tale of Orson and the Bear, An Irish Psalm, or a Welch Prayer; As any point he could unriddle, With that odd Phiz, like head of Fiddle; Whose vanity and simpring Wives, Still against Law and Reason strives; Her Pride ferments him to complain, Upon the Taxes of this Reign; For fear the general distress, Should make her Topknot grow the less; Or that her Petticoat debase It self, from two, to one Gold Lace: For th' Churches safety and her own, One of the Tankard's melted down; Or that t' assist the War and the King, One Stone fall from her Diamond Ring; She fears the Expensive times will take, A Jill from quart of Butter'd Sack; Or that Establishing Religion, May cause one Teale the less, or Pidgeon, Within the confines of her Table, When she and Gossips meet and Babble: These are the griefs to Husband told, Who straight as full as he can hold; Like overcharg'd Pot-gun with ill wind, As bad as that comes from behind, Rather then lose one Chop on's Mutton, Or from New Coat, one Silver Button: Shall side with grumbling debate, And rail against the Church and State. Met at a Club where all agree, To this absurd Hypocrisie; Here's one ne're cares who th' Nation's ruling, So Daughter be not kept from Schooling; Would lose his Freedom like a Puppy, Rather than she not learn to Coopee, The Dancing and the Singing Graces, And like a Philly all her Paces; About her Heads Phantastick dress, Rather than have one Wire amiss: His hoarded Gold would freely spare, Tho not one Shilling towards a War; That would improve what thus is lavish'd, And perhaps save her being Ravish'd; And tho for his Religions sake, The Dunce well knows the War we make; Rather than not his whim pursue, Would turn a Pagan or a Iew: Or like the Aegyptians old opinion, Adore a Calves Head or an (d) Onion. Another sort will throw at Bowls, More than they'll spare to save their Souls; And squander what they grudge to be Employ'd to keep out Popery: They are with Taxes quite undone, But not with Play, or drinking on; For as a Complement that's made, Still sounds▪ like sense, to whom 'tis said: What's idly lost we ne're regard; But when we pay a Tax, 'tis hard: Women, too lately durst upbraid, The Senate and the Laws they made; But more particulary that, Where Lady was to wear a Hat; And lay the Ensigns of their pride; Their Silken Ornaments aside; Which would have been a wholsome Act, T' encourage Woolen Manufact; A sober garb and a worthy praise, Much us'd in good Queen Besses days: Here Collin had gone on inveighing Against the Ladies rich Arraying; Had not a sudden Clamorous source Of Tongues abridg'd his wise discourse; Loud yell of Throats, and din of Clubs, Just as when Coopers hoop their Tubbs, Possess'd the Air, and Timerous Collin, Into an Ague fit was falling; To see the Major with his valour, As pale as he himself or paler; The terrour of the Noise infus'd, Fresh pangs to part so lately bruis'd, Their Bones began to ake agen; Both wondring what that stir should mean; To make a elanger of that Nature, So near the House of Legislature: Till action, after some small pause, Inform'd their judgments the true cause. The Mob it seems had heard a rumour, Not well concurring with their humour; Importing that an Act should be, To put down Silken Gallantry: That Topknots, Garters, Cravat-strings, Shooe-tyes, and such important things, Should be abolish'd, and instead A List of Woolen serve, or Thread; That Petticoat of Cloth of Gold, To Hostess should no more be Sold: But be by just Exchange transferr'd, To Stuff of Eighteen pence a Yard; And that the Cobblers Daughter shou'd Rustle no more in Velvet Hood: But wear Chapeau, from Dogskin wove, And modell'd like a Sugar Loaf; This, same no sooner did impart, Fame, that is always doing hurt: But every sturdy Aproneer, Arm'd with Battoon, did straight appear, Swearing no Law should e're be made, So much to th' damage of their Trade; And now to th' house began to move, Some forty thousand in a drove. Ignorant of this, the Senate sat, Within as snug as any Cat; Making sound Laws for preservation, Of the Leige People of the Nation: Till noise like that of Baiting Bears; Inform'd their Legislative Ears; The crowd were there resolv'd to carry, The cause by Broomstick Arbitrary; Who having all by joynt consent, Taken a Lambs-Wool Sacrament; Now Arm'd with resolution stood, Swearing to lose their precious Blood, But Silks and Satins should be wore, And Ribbons as they were before; Where we will leave 'em all to fight, The Battle in fam'd Topknots right; And to our Worthies turn our stile, Who wisely to avoid the broil, Having before their Eyes th' Abuses Now rudely offer'd to both Houses: Whose Tumult if they could not stem, They knew would nothing make of them; To a friends House near that of Commons, To whom the Major oft had Summons: In haste retir'd, resolv'd to stay, And valours rouze another way; Not as before with manly beating, But with a gust of valiant Eating. The Brittains never were inclin'd, Of old, to fight before they had din'd; The Belgians too in Battle shrink, When e're they Charge before they drink; For Wine or a good Dinner draws, Still as much Courage as a Cause; And as when Hero hearing Drum beat A point of War, even longs for Combat: The sullen sound and Martial din, Rouzing the Spirits up within To fall to action, so in some, A piece of Beef, just like a Drum, Will animate and raise more mettle, Than either Trumpet, Fife, or Kettle. Their Host that long had practic'd Physick, A trusty friend to wight that is Sick: Tho not by judgment, could by guess, The Nature find of a disease; Which was as much, he wisely knew, As any of 'em all can do; With Paracelsus and with Gallen, He toll'd his Ignorant Patients all in: Like Quack their terms of Art could smatter, And just like fluster'd R—chatter, With scraps of Jests by standers pelt In squeaking tone, like one that's guelt, Still making solid confidence, Supply the meaness of his Sence, By Medicine, or Phlebotomy, He'd undertake each Malady; And if he cur'd the diseas'd 'Twas skill, if not, as Heaven pleas'd: For as those men that trade with Stars, And foretel Famines, Plagues, and Wars; In doubtful terms their thoughts express, To save their Credits if they miss; So he tho skilful in Closestools, Could not avoid those dubious rules, But many a Patients dissolution, Had laid upon ill Constitution; But if drug chanc'd to operate well, 'Twas then the Doctors mighty skill. Their Host receiv'd 'em with a bow, Whither they welcome were or no, Which is one part of entertaining, How e're the rest be true or feigning, And tho he seem'd a little shy At first of Collins Company, Perhaps, as fearing a Trepan, As being a Red Letter man: Yet by the Major being told, What vertues lay in that course mold, A second Congee he affords, So low that Collin spoil'd the Boards, With sudden scrape of hobnail'd shooe, Returning Courtesies were due. Quoth Host, then to his Man, go Roger, And tell my Sister here's the Major: Who smil'd at that, as subtly knowing, What sort of Jest was now pursuing, Having before-hand softly spoke To's Friend to carry on the Joke, And banter Collin, therefore who This Sister was 'tis fit you knew. When Town was purg'd of Popish Bigotts, And search was made for shaven He-Goats, The bald-pate Fry ran helter skelter, To Holes and Corners to find shelter, And happy was the Priest could tell, How to escape the Constable By Flight, or else more safely wise Defend himself by quaint disguise; Some clad like Weavers, work'd at Looms, Others cry'd Shooes, old Hatts or Brooms; A stone, or a fine Tinder-box, And some in Vestments Orthodox In Coffee-house were found to be, Inveighing against Popery, Here you might see a Fryer bilk'd From selling more o'th'Virgins milk, His Cowle laid by, and Pride divine. Crying, buy Brandy, Brandy Wine; Another Sot, whose diabolick Shams were confirm'd as Apostolick, His Tenets now was forc'd to hush, To bawl a Rat-trap or a Brush; And all the rest through Pannick fear Of Statute, sheltring here and there, Their likewise chang'd all o're the Nation, Prov'd best the right Transubstantiation. Amongst the crew that made this pother, The Doctor had it seems a Brother, Who at Saint Omers had provision, To be a pimp to Superstition, And soon had learnt to hold a door To Babels Priest, and Babels Whore; To tract of which amour diserning, Gave him first light to human Learning; For as a Pimp to Potentate, Makes oft a solid Magistrate: So he that best conceals the flaws, And Errors in the Romish cause, By true Church pimping is most fit To make the ablest Jesuit; To which degree by fortune blest, Our novice was preferr'd with hast, And hither sent with many more, Upon the old converting Score, But had not (as it seems) been here Above a quarter of a Year, When sullen fate began to lower, And force that lawless crew to scower; Or else disguis'd from place to place Remove with danger and disgrace; Amongst the rest whom these mishaps, Had strictly forc'd to change their shapes: He to prevent ensuing ill Was forc'd to do't against his Will, And now in Petticoat and Manto, Like buxom Lass, that trips Curanto With Wires, (e) Comodes, and Topknots flaring, Proper for modish Ladys wearing; A graceful mein, and jolly face, Came into the room where Major was, Who quickly by her Brother knew her, But was to say but little to her. When after some discourses kind, And they had plentifully din'd, Sister had secretly her Cue, The talk with Collin to renew: Which if she did the Votes o'th' day quote, Or Joke upon his Beard, or Grey Coat, His Stature or his Shape deride, Or once but touch on his blind side, Might easily effected be, Or railing at Presbytery. Quoth she, I'm offer'd a good Wager, But yet durst never lay it, Major, That you've a Neighbour, that in Arts Of arguing, has such topping parts, That th' Devil cannot baffle him; Of whom ('tis said) he is a Limb. Deform'd and Stigmatiz'd by Nature, And Crooked both in Mind and Stature: His Head and Beard as black as Cole-hill, A Barrel Paunch, and Back like Mole-hill; And tho there's but one Eye in's face, Dares think himself a Saint of Grace, Who when all others blotches see, Finds Beauties in Presbytery. 'Tis said too that his Folly chimes, In Jingling praises of the times; Decries and think 'tis done with Wit, The reason of a Iacobite, And Poyson'd with Phanatick Zeal, Spreads Venom through the publick Weal. This Monster, if there such can be, I'd Ride a hundred Miles to see, To Murder him in sharp Debate, As being of a Sect I hate. Scarce Collin had this Language heard, But Crimson blush o're face appear'd, And through his bushy Beard, the blood Shone like Aurora through a Cloud; Gazing some time with eye like fire, Upon his Foe, and her attire, While Major in the Interim told her, Him she abus'd she might behold here: Imprison'd Rage at last took vent, And thus in Words its Rancour spent. Quoth he, in all my life till now, I think I never had to do, With any of these Female Cattle, These things compos'd of noise and prattle, Given to torment us, when the Devil Had strongest power of doing Evil. Seven Fiends the Scripture does attest, One devilish Woman once possess'd; And if from every Rampant Dame, There daily were cast out the same, You'd find in Person, or in Will, One Devil or other lurking still. And tho y'have stil'd me here his Limb, I'le prove I know no more of him, Than only that I dare defy Himself, and your Carnality. Your Tongue too, that divisions ran Upon my Shape and outward man, With men of Sense will have regard As little, as you'd have my Beard, Which can be prov'd the chiefest Grace, Nature e're gave t'adorn a face; The Spaniard in most Grave Affairs His Oath makes, by these honour'd hairs, And holds it for a Damning Sin To break't, be Whiskers ne're so thin. And that great Author Mandevile, Whom every one may read that will, Reports that the (f) Bononians are, Both Sexes, cover'd with long hair; That th'bald are look'd upon as Beasts; And Virgins Beards hang to their Breasts, Which they with Ribbonds deck, as you That Steeple geer upon your Brow; Which, to my Judgment, makes you seem Just like a Fore-horse of a Team. Hair did the Face and Chin adorn, Long e're such Fopperies were worn, And still shall be esteem'd by me As th'Type of Sense and Gravity; When that lewd Ensign there of yours, Shall be the badge of Bawds and Whores. Quoth she, because I would not whip, With Argument, your Pigmyship Too soon, I've given you leave to fret, E're I attack'd you in Debate. But now your Thesis will convince, And prove your major is not sense. If Providence did Beards devise, To prove the wearers of them wise, A fulsome (g) Goat would then by Nature Excel each other human Creature: The Reverend Clergy ne're would shave 'em; Our Wives and Daughters too would have 'em, If Heaven those Tufts of Hair had sent, As if design'd for Ornament, Complexion still doth plainly show Cause, why Beards do, or do not grow▪ The hot, the moist, and virile Nature, Being most the causer of that matter, And was a modest covering given, More than for Ornament, by Heaven; For had they been for graceful shew, Our Sex no doubt had had them too. Quoth Collin, whether that be so, That Womankind have Beards or no, Is dubious, and admits a question, Which now you seem to make a Jest on▪ Some Authors own they may be hairy, In spite of Arguments contrary▪ And prove by Books, and learn'd Discourse, Some sort of Ladies have had Whiskers. Tho the position wonder draws, And those too by a Natural Cause, The (h) Q • een of Sheba, as 'tis said, Had a small Beard of sandy red, Which, when to stint her Nations quarrels, She Solomon had pump'd of▪s Morals, Grew and enlarg'd upon her Phiz, Each day, till 'twas as long as his. And of Examples too, I've some, That I can trace much nearer home: My Mother and my Sister both, Possessing Beards of handsome growth, Which made some ignorant (i) Capriches, Believe and seize on 'em for Witches; Nor them, nor my old Father spare, Whom they believ'd a Conjurer. When really from Beards arise No ill, but signs of being wise; And therefore those of female mold, Seldom have any till they are old: As for the Politiques I teach, I fancy them, beyond your reach; And your capacity would win More fame by shewing you can spin, Than pertly aiming at debate, And meddling with affairs of State. The famous (k) Sallique Law of France, Their lasting glory to advance, As I have heard my Father say, No woman would permit to sway, Their occult gifts being thought most fitting For dresses, or to mind their knitting; And therefore from all publique matters, Still kept their Sisters, Wives, or Daughters: And if in little England here, The wise and wholsome custom were To gag 'em in their prating vein, On the transfactions of this Reign; Or send 'em out from London all, As once did Politique old (e) Noll: You'd find less store of villanies, Less Cuckolds too, and fewer lies. Quoth she, thou dost by this describe The sordid nature of thy Tribe, The sneaking Presbyter exceeding All other Sects in want of breeding; And therefore by his mean deserts, Wouldst rate and model others parts: And tho our Sex thou wouldst run down, Yet shalt thou find amongst them one, Shall with your ablest Rabbi vye, In Logick or Philosophy: The Art of Arguing shew, and teach To discuss truth (m) from lyes, in Speech: The Nature of a question prove, Simple or Compound that you move, And by the (n) Predicables show, Whither 'tis stated right or no. Genus & species in sententia, With Proprium & differentia, Shall trot and amble in discourse, As easie as I make my Horse. Or if on Natural Tracts you dare Pretend to talk, I'll pose you there; I'll shew through long laborious Studies, The Natures of all sorts of Bodies; Of Fire, of Water, Earth or Air, The Causes or Effects declare; What 'tis makes stinking Fish to shine, As if it had some light Divine: Or why a piece of rotten Post, Shall to his Lodging light mine Host: The Nature of the Moon decreasing Declare; and what's the cause of sneezing, Of Coughs, and (o) Hiccoughs, the intents; And why my Buxom Lady squints. Nay more; what has this many years Puzzled our best Philosophers. I'll tell why Dogs turn three times round, About the place, where they lye down; Which Mysteries, when the Wits of Gresham Shall hear how plainly I'll express them, They'll own, in spite of publick Rumours, They're not all Blockheads at St. Omers. No sooner Collin heard that word, But striking fist upon the Board, Quoth he, I'll hold a pound to nothing, We have got a Wolf here in Sheeps clothing. By this Philosophy and Logick, Which is the same to me as Magick, With that last word join'd all together, I find your La—ship a false Brother; And should your Arguments repel By Reason, with a Constable, He would the best confuter be, Of all rank Roman Sophistry, By letting your high parts be known, To Justice and the Learned Town. As men that travelling learn the Arts, By Murder oft improve their parts; He that for Argument is hang'd, Best proves how well he has harrang'd. The Jesuit look'd pale at that, As knowing he had slipt a fault, But was resolv'd with a feign'd laugh, And impudence, to put it off, When Collin thus went on: The Nation, I think, has many a Proclamation, Which does from Statute-Law proceed, By which your Tribe were all forbid As Traytors; yet as if you long for't, You must come over tho you hang for't: You must be crying up Dunce Peters, Tho you howl after for't in Fetters; Extol your Gods, the Fathers too, Whom (if I said were mad) 'tis true. The very Founder (o) of ye all, Scarce having Lucid Interval, Who in the Rapture of his Fits, Made all the Rules for Jesuites: Who has deserv'd more than your Popes, The stroke of Ax, or twitch of Ropes: By Rapine, and by Avarice, some Have made a Den of Thieves of Rome: Some by curs'd Poyson have been struck dumb, That t'others Bribes might get the Popedom. Nay, one (p) whose tale I thought untrue, Till now I chance to meet with you: Tho to the Stews she was a Daughter, Was chosen in Rome for Sanctae Pater, And by lewd Off-spring made us see Her stanch Infallibility. Quoth Priest, thou art the foul mouthst fellow That ever at Guildhall did bellow, When your damn'd party would controle, A just election by a Poll. And what or whoso'ere I am, I'le prove it to your partys shame; No private Sect deserves the Gallows, So much as your Phanatick Fellows: Tho Brethren of the Romish See, Do venture here for Charity: 'Tis for some special act of Glory, As to relieve from Purgatory, Some Soul tormented, or to free, By Pennance some young sinful she; Who taking hold of apt occasion, Through Love made forfeit of Salvation; And not through any ill Intent, T'affront or curb the Government. If Statutes-Laws against us be, They're so too 'gainst Presbitery; And who ought most t'obey the Senate; Those out o'th' Land, or those live in it? King Iames the First. Iames pronounc'd no Fine or Death, Sharper than Queen Elizabeth: 'Twas for the Monarchy we Fell, Not sneaking for a Commonweal. We never set a King on's Throne, And straight conspir'd to pull him down, Because against our wise Consent, He do's dissolve a Parliament: And for the sake of a Round Tax, Will not be made a Nose of Wax; Or that his Church Decree repels, All the Republique Principles; And takes no Regal Dignities, To be remov'd just when you please; None of these Crimes our Tribe dare do, Tho acted frequently by you, Who ever were, and still will be, The Moles to root out Monarchy: That Scepters may be swayd by Laymen; Blind Coblers and hard fisted Draymen: 'Tis not true Zeal by which you dare, Cry down the Book of Common Prayer; Or call Church Ceremonies Foppish; Absurd, Ridiculous and Popish, But sullen Pride to have the Glory, To set up your own Directory, And plainly snow your strictest Zeal, Is nothing but a stubborn Will; For which you thrash your Pulpit Drum, For which you daily Buz and Hum; And snuffling to the Tribe disclose, Dull Exhortations through the Nose; Whose matter as soon make a Saint, As the Tub do's in which you Cant; And tho Romes Faith thou darst Assail, And rudely 'gainst the Fathers Rail. Was not the Victory known certain, Gain'd by (q) St. Austin ore St. Martin, Who strove by sly Sophistick Wit, To contradict what t'other Writ, Who stricter Piety can alledge, Than th' Jesuits in their sober Colledge, Of Bloody Combats again Satan, What Sect could e're most justly prate on? Ist not recorded of (r) Ignatius, That'the Devil once tore his Mustachio's? At which enrag'd in pious Frollick, To Cuffs they went, Bite, Box and B— Where the infernal Demagog, Was kick'd and beaten like a Dog. And was he not without dry Blows, Another time lugg'd by the Nose, When he his devillish Rules durst urge, And rail against the Mother Church? Which if thou ever canst make known, By any of thy Brethren done; Or that starch'd F—son or L—b Have ever cudgell'd Belzebub, My own Opinion i'll defy, And settle to Presbitery. Quoth Collin, that we ever made The Devil shrink by breaking's Head, Would to the Wise as senseless be, As your Assertions seem to me. But that the Serpent's Head we may Have crush'd in a Spiritual Way, And so have given him the rout, I think I plainly can make out; Nor have I 'gainst your Church inveigh'd, Till I its Fopperies had weigh'd. Your Worshiping of Stocks and Stones, And bringing Life back with Saints Bones. Your Reliques of St. Ieromes Teeth, To cure the Pox and Fevers with; And chast St. Katherine's Huckle Bone, A certain Remedy for the Stone: That the Lapets of St. Bernards Shooes, Gave present ease to Childing Throwes; And that his Hose could Wives redress, From their Defect of Barreness; With several Fopperies and Tales, From (s) Causin, Cressey and some else, 'Mongst which particularly one, I now think proper to be shown. Late in the (t) the Kingdom of Navarre, Liv'd a Young Hermit call'd St. Clare, Who amongst numbers whose fond Hearts Were charm'd by his endearing Parts. The Wife of a Rich Grandee stove, To tempt to her unlawful Love: But finding he still answer'd no, And to her Grief her Cake was Dough; A cruel Act perform'd scarce read of, Hiring two Braves to chop his Head off: Which done, the Body upright stands, Taking the Head between his Hands, And walks two Miles with't to his Cell: But what is yet more strange to tell; The Head did to St. Austin pray, And Sung Te Deum all the way. This, tho it many may deceive, For my part I can scarce believe; Yet if you'l bring me to a Priest, Who being hang'd will break a Jest: Or when he has endur'd the Shame, Prays to a Saint, or Sings a Psalm; Despising Sheriffs, and their Ropes, Ile be your Vassal, and your Popes; Attest no more our Brethrens Right, But turn your faithful Proselite; But if I see you once turn'd over, Grow black in th' Face and not recover; Or find ye lolling out your Tongues, Not able to redress your Wrongs; I then shall think your Saints and Rellicks, Your Fathers and your other Frollicks; Their Fights with Satan too, a Dream, And that the Devil has cudgell'd them. Quoth Jesuite enrag'd, thy Thoughts In thy foul Scrowl of Life are blots, Which in such quantities are made, That no one can the Paper read; The word Phanatick rightly taught, Is one that runs stark Mad for naught; Possessed with Daemon, call'd his Will, Which when he cants, steams out in Zeal; Which tough Battoon. But the Major here, Observing signs of Rage appear, Both in the Priest and sturdy Collin, Who was from Sheath, Toledo pulling; Pray'd th' Host to take away his Sister, Who straight at his request dismiss'd▪ her; Whilst Collin who had now no power, Ore glowing Wrath, rush'd out of door, Swearing the World should know th' Abuse, The Commons had so near their House, Where Priest in Petticoats and Manto's, Subjects for Poets to make Canto's, Were sculking; with which wrathful thought, Home to his Inn at last he got, Where how his Guide and he agreed, In the next Canto you may read. The End of the Third Canto.

WEDNSDAYS Walk. The Argument of the Third Canto. Mony, do's Collins Rage allay, Who now is carried to a Play; But hindring th' Actors, finds too soon Himself, in danger of Battoon; Till Punk oth' Town takes him away, To th' Tavern, where denying to pay, She wheedles him with Art profound, And picks his Purse of twenty Pound. CANTO IV. MOny, the Nerve of Peace and War, That's both our Comfort and our Care: The want of which is Mans undoing, As well as▪ its Excess his ruin. Whose real Worth we nere esteem, Through moderation, but extream: How shall I treat thee, in terms Civil, That art so exquisite a Devil? By thee old Widows are put off, Half rotten with Catrarh and Cough: By thee Fools marry and get Maids, With Wealth, and richer Maiden-Heads: And by thee, good or ill Report Is gain'd, with places too at Court; Friends got, and Foes being made agree, By thy Infallibility, This influence that all Hearts can melt, Amongst the rest our Collin felt; Who just that Morning being paid By th' Inn-keeper in way of Trade, The twenty Pounds for Hay and Grain, That long upon Accompt had lain; Th' alluring Gold had so asswag'd His Malice and controul'd his Rage, That Rancour now was wholly spent, And quite forgot his late intent: Besides, he knew the Priests ill treating, Might hedge himself another beating: Therefore thought wisely to forbear, Led it to by a prudent Fear; At which the Major being well pleas'd, Himself thus utters—the diseas'd; In mind, my Friend's a worse Degree, Than is the Bodies Malady: I infer this as firmly thinking, Unless the Jesuite had been drinking; As 'tis their customary Trade, That our late Disputant was mad; Which may to th' Wise in reason pass so, Because thou knowst their Founder was so; And ever since their frantick Rules, Have prov'd 'em Lunaticks or Fools, Instructing Kings and troubling Reigns, To feed the Worms in their own Brains; Besides, his way of arguing, I look on as a nauseous thing; Where Reason only should prevail, His chiefest Topic was to rail, Thy Stature, or thy Shape deride, Or simply rally thy blind side; And what is least to be averr'd, Deny the grandeur of thy Beard; In which his folly I had shown, In the defence of one more known; But that I would not take from thee, The Glory of the Victory. The Beard's the honour of the Head, As thou before hast rightly said; And has in War been thought ere now, Substantial Pawn for Mony too. De Castro (a) when he had reliev'd, A Famous Town by Indians griev'd; His Treasure spent, and knowing th' Hopes Of War was vain, not paying his Troops, Dispatch'd to Goa's Magistrates, His Beard between two Golden Plates, Intreating the Grandees to grant, A hundred thousand pounds upon't; Which they contented with the pawn, Straight sent, nor further Note was drawn; And what could greater Token be, Than that of Barbal Dignity? Besides his positive denying Of truths, declares their knack of lying; Which I am very glad I heard, Because it has my sense prepar'd Their other Fallacies to guess, Which Thought will make me grumble less. The Church of England do's appear, By this more beautiful than ere; Which now my Heart shall take as guide, Nor longer with their party side; And tho I did the Times condemn, As we all do that herd with them; Reason at last shall take her Station, And humbly preach up Moderation. The subtile Collin smild at this, As thinking to himself, there is Just as much reason for this humbling, As there was lately for your grumbling; But fearing that a blunt aspersion, Might balk the Major in's Conversion, To humor him in's Tale agreed, And let him in Discourse proceed. Thou hast, quoth he, oblig'd thy self, So much against this Popish Elf, That I, altho I had a Hand in The Trick, to pose thy Understanding, Seeing thou didst thy self deliver So well, shall prize thee more than ever; And therefore now resolve to treat thee, With some diversion that may get thee To think, they are not here all Beasts, Rude Car-men, Squib-makers and Priests; But that acquaintance may be had, With Gentry that are better bred, Collin who was not such a Sot, To refuse pleasure cost him nought, With Thanks to th' Major gave consent, Not knowing yet what Sport he ment, Which th' better to inform ye here, I think is proper to declare. Upon the Bank of Thame and Isis, That feeds the Wen of City Vices, By bearing Wealth upon their Shoulders, To Fools, Phanaticks and Free-holders: A lofty pile their stands, whose use is, To nourish and regale the Muses; Not with Course Fare of Greasy Bits, But with rare Treats of Costly Wits; Jelly of Tropes, and Rich Potages Of Rants, and High Poetick Rages; Brisk Metaphors they also choose, And simile to make Raggous, Garnisht with Leaves of Antique Books, And all the Poets are their Cooks. Here Empress Tragedy still treads, And the grand Dance in Buskins leads; And Farce in Vizard Mask is seen, In Mimick Garb like Harlequin; Deck'd with a Nosegay of fresh Buds, Of Prologues, Songs and Interludes. Here each Mans Genius holds a Mirrour, Where he may see and fly from Errour, Where every Vice uncover'd is, And every Fop may see his Phiz. The Beau that rambles from the Boxes, To the middle Gallery where the Pox is; The Cully too that makes a show, With Punk in the side Box below, From whence his Heart e're she can ask it, Leaps into th' Orange Wenches Basket; There Pants, and Praises the dam'd Features Of that most Impudent of Creatures; As (b) Summer buzzing▪ flesh-fly sprung▪ From filthy Clod of Naufeous Dung, Influenc'd by Heat with guilded Wings, Sawsilly Dines and Sups with Kings; So that deboach'd abandon'd Creature, Got from the Dregs of Human Nature; When th' Man most wanted a Physitian, And Woman was in worst Condition, By publick pimping and procuring▪ By private Cheats and open Whoring, Aiming at Wit and modish Jokes, Familiar grows with Lords and Dukes; Vices like these are here disgrac'd, And with Satyrick stroke defac'd▪ Th' Old Widow too that every Day, Brings her brisk Daughter to the Play, That those who do her Youth behold, May think the Mother not too old, Is very often put to th' blush, Tho yet she eares not for't a Rush; At least she is with Paint so Red, That it looks just as if she did, The secret Virtue of the Fucus On Face as ancient as (c) Bonducas; Fixing a Colour there that would, Supply the want of modest Blood: Blushing and Painting now are grown An equal Imperfection; Tho in past Times in bushful Face, A Blush was thought a sign of Grace; As tother in the Common Sense, Was held a Type of Impudence: In brief a mixture of all sorts, Sit daily here to view the Sports, And oft by Satyr bluntly us'd, Generously pay to be abus'd, Which do's as much their Errors purge, As a Lent Sermon would at Church: Within a Covert call'd the Scenes, Are bred a Fry of Kings and Queens; Young Heroes learn to Huff and Strut, Defie the Gods and Armies Rout; And others study and grow thin, To make a Crew of Coxcombs grin; Here ragged Wight that once did use, As bad a Station as the Mews, By some Nice piece of Poets Wit, Succeeding do's Preferment get Of Food and Cloths, which yet can't hide, His Leprosie of senseless Pride; But swearing to play th' Fool no more, Still plays a greater, and gives ore: Here simpring Philly too nere backt, To earn her Bread begins to act; Who when the Town to found her rise, Have Clapt her soundly once or twice, Is snatch'd away by keeping Asses, As soon as she has learnt her Paces; But stuyding Parts (with Industry) Of Natural Philosophy, Improves, and after the first Night, Grows fam'd, and takes up with A— Then wisely hiding her disgrace, The fam'd poetick Art do's praise; And tho she knows 'tis like the Chaos Extols the method of the Play-house. To this rare place where Wit is taught, The Major now had Collin brought; The House was Peopled with all sorts, The Cities product and the Courts, An Ancient Comick Piece they knew, Intitled the Fair of Bartholomew, Collin first thought as he came in, It had a Conventicle bin, And that mistaking of the day, The Major brought him there to pray; He saw each Box with Beauty crown'd, And Pictures deck the Structure round; Ben, Shakespear, and the learned Rout, With Noses some, and some without. Loud Musick sounding through his Ears, That were more sanctified than▪ theirs, Made him a great while doubting stand, Till seeing Brother Zeal o'th Land, Give to his Canting Sister Greeting, Confirm'd him this must be a Meeting; With Eyes turn'd up and shake of Head, He now repeated all was said; Admir'd the Habit of the Prig, And wink'd at stealing of the Pig, As wisely knowing all those Slips, Natural to their Apocalips; And that the Brethren may Steal, As well as Lie, to shew their Zeal; He had not long been in this Rapture, Which pleas'd him more than any Chapter; But by the Nature of the Play, His Mood was turn'd another way; For finding that a little after, Meerly to urge the Peoples Laughter, The Rabbi with loud Shouts and Mocks, Was for Slight reason set ith' Stocks; In Breast a suddain Anger glow'd, And instantly revenge he vow'd, As thinking this a base affront, To the whole Tribe of those that Cant; This Maggot working in his Pate, He starts from off the Bench he sate; And getting near half choak'd with Rage, Thus spoke to those upon the Stage. What Carnal Motion of the Beast? What Daemon Sirs has you possessest? Or what curst Law is there that Grants, This Licence to affront the Saints, That labour in their strict Vocation, And sweat to teach Regeneration? Is now th' eleventh Tryal come, In Persecution taught at Rome; That thus you dare disturb their Zeals, And tye unerring Truth by th' Heels? If so, we have no more to do, Both He and I will suffer too; If not, it never shall be said, An Elder to the Stocks was led, For all the Rabble to deride, Whilst I wear Bilboe by my side. The Actors when he first begun, By th' Noyse were stopt from going on; Nor was the Audience less amaz'd, Who all on Collins out-side gaz'd; Who now possess't with zealous Rage, Was getting up upon the Stage, With Sword in Hand resolv'd on War, With those who stock'd the Presbiter, For sake of Brotherhood to ease him, And from his Wooden Shame release him; When Blew Coat Bully that stood by, And heard his Chattring Lunacy, Wondring to see a Country Lout, In Cassock Vile to make that Rout, His Noddle reaching with Battoon, Gave him a thump that brought him down▪ And now the Hubbub was so great, That each one rose from off his Seat; All Laughing at his Garb and Look, Whom now they for a Madman took; Till Collin who resolv'd to show, He was a Wiser Man then so; Nor Begger as they might suppose, By the Humility of's Clothes; Oth' suddain stopping the Discourse, Out of his Pocket pull'd his Purse, With twenty pieces in't of Gold, His proper Right to have and hold▪ Yet this ceas'd not the loud uproar, But rather made the Laughter more; And tho the Major fretting try'd, To take him off to tother side▪ And to inform him did his best, That what he saw was but a Jest; Yet he with late ill usage heated, Would forward, and had bin worse treated Had not a Female Wastcoateer, Came up, and whispering in his Ear, The ill match'd Combatant drawn off, Leaving the Crowd to showt and laugh: Major well noting this when don, Was very glad to have him gon, As knowing soon the time would come, When he should meet with him at home; Whom now weel follow with his Lass; But first discover who she was. Mongst all the Bevys of the Fair, That born for human comfort are; She of a Tribe was, that express'd Their Natures gentler than the rest; And in a kinder Sphere did move, By inclination led to Love; For her no Heart yet ever broke, That bating Sighs, could but have spoke; Or when it was with Passion haunted, Had skill to tell her what it wanted; As Phaebus to the Plants below, By whose indulgent warmth they grow, No single influence lets fall, But spreads his Beams in general; So to each Supplicant that begs, She kindly would her Arms or L—gs; And like the Sun was understood, To all Man-kind a common Good; Her friendly willingness to please, Oft punish'd her with sore disease; The Fire that in her Heart did glow, Kindling a greater Flame below; That sometimes by emulsive drenching, Has bin above a twelve-month quenching; Whilst Beauty fit to charm the Gods, Was studded like a Watch with Nodes; Proving her Zeal to love the greater, By tasting with its Sweets the Bitter; The Pangs of Love are often thought, As sharp possessing, as when not; His being as great that has enjoy'd, As when he for enjoyment cry'd; Which Plague is still from Females found, That are uncourteous or unfound, But to proceed——for Charity, None noted was more fam'd than she; By Natural Generosity, She was of precious self so free, That meriting ten Guineys down, She'd deign to smile on half a Crown: Nay oft descend to poor Parole, To shew the Bounty of her Soul; So temperate too, that all her Meat, Was generally what poor Folks eat. No difference did, or none would know, Twixt Heel of Lark and Heel of Cow; Could Dine on Venson in the Kell, Or Bread and Cheese would serve as well; And Sprats lov'd to as nice degree, As any Turbet in the Sea; And as her Food was humble, so Loud Fame declares her Drink was too: She, costly Claret nere admir'd, Nor ere to costlier Sack aspired; The jolly Nut-brown, and the Quartern, When Visitants came in serv'd her turn; And oft when Strangers were not there, A Glass of Penitential Beer: Strangers I mean, of her own kind, Else when she with a Cully din'd, That scruple she could soon undo, And briskly tope Pint-Bumpers too: At last, like pretty Birds oth' Air, With Mate she'd to her Nest repair; Which was to imitate 'em nigh, In Garret plac'd five Stories high; As she was fam'd for outward Parts, Her inward were no less for Arts; And tho she had not the Renown, Of Whited or Peter Herigone, Had made an entrance into the Staticks, And several parts oth' Methematicks; All Questions properly could state, Touching the quality of Weight; And tell exactly ere she'd leave ye, Whither your Purse were light or heavy; By Geometry could likewise know, The breadth and depth of Pockets too; Their Solids and their Superficies, As easily as tell what this is: And by quick Art of Hand and Brain, Where something was, make nought remain; In nimbly Plumbing the Convex, Could out-do any of her Sex. The worth of which rare Art to raise, Made her haunt Crowds at Church and Plays: And now did her Attendance draw, To th' Play-House, where she Collin saw, His Repution more to settle, Gingling a Purse of pretious Mettle: Not eager Lover, whose Eye-Balls, Greedily on his Mistress falls, Could half so strongly fix as hers, To th'inward Merits of that Purse, Which in her Eye made Collin shew, As charming as a side Box Beau; And caus'd her to prevent the Storm, To draw him from off further harm; Collin, who took her for a Sister, With Love and Thanks return'd, carress'd her; Believing her a Saint of Grace, For modest wearing Masque on Face; But reckon'd those within the Boxes, All Ranters, Harridans and Doxies. They now were to a place arriv'd, For Mirth and Ease of Cares contriv'd, Where Courtiers that till Midnight tarry, Talk Politiques ore Sack and Sherry; And Alderman to lewdness fallen, Begins with Gill and ends with Gallon; Where now both standing at the Door, Collin entreats his Sister Wh— To let her Modesty incline, T'accept of half a Pint of Wine; Dear Friend, cry'd she, with all my Heart, Let it be, if you please, a Quart, To which he courteously cry'd no, I hope I'm better bred than so, To think a Lady like a German, Can tope, or like an English Carman; This said they down together sate, When up the Knipperkin was brought; Whose slender quality when she, Sometime had Oagled spitefully; And found th • Effects too little to make, A just Provision for her Stomach, To right the wrongs of that and Belly, She thus do's frugal Collin rally. Quoth she, this were a wretched Nation, But for this kind of Consolation; Where oft afflicted Nature uses, To take amends for Lifes abuses; And ease the Soul from toilsome thinking, By a good Fellowship and Drinking; And tho our Sex have always bin Barr'd of that Custom Masculine, When we in publick treat a Guest, Or simpring sit at any Feast; Yet when a Knot of us appoint, A Match amongst our selves, a Pint Or more, in a Beer Glass is then, No more with us than with you Men, Tho amongst Strangers 'tis our way, To Riot with a Dish of Tea. Like Lady—at a Treat, That cares not two▪pence for the Meat; Tho she to th' ruine of the Feast, Eats three times more than all the rest, Unless aside you do her draw, To take a Rouse in Usquebagh, Or with some brimming Glass of Sherry, Nutmeg'd and Sugard make her merry; And many more whose quality, Forbids their toping openly, Will privately on good occasion, Take six go-downs on Reputation, With satisfaction then, and ease, Correcting Breath with Lozanges; Take leave and never stagring for't, Call for the Coach and drive to Court; And I my self that thus have said it, Altho I would not lose my Credit, By letting the Town know I quaff'd A Quart of Claret at a Draught; Yet here with such a Friend as you, A Brother and in private too, My self a Foe must needs profess, To all such Knipperkins as this; With that her Hand on Pot she laid, And threw it over Collins Head, With such a rage and vigor, that It flew so near, it brush'd his Hat, Who finding by this Action, The Mettle of's Companion; When he had star'd on her a while, Thus answers in his former stile, I must confess, quoth he, that yet, I nere in all my Travails met, With any of the Sister-hood, That like you Toping understood, Which may perhaps not be a Crime, But the meer nature of this Clime; Your Constitution being here, Inur'd to Wine, as we to Beer; Else I should hold a Sister naught, Prophanely swallow'd such a draught; At Heidleberg the strictest Zealots, Amongst the Independant Prelats, 'Tis said with large two Gallon Bowls, Nightly refresh'd their thirstly Souls; The Grandees (e) too of the Cabal, Which once were call'd Synodical; When they a knotty point of State, Or th' Churches Interest would debate, Made strong Potations Drench the Cause, And legal Brimmers vouch the Laws; And in some Grotto of their own, With Cushions knock each other down; But of your Sex I never knew, Till now such offers as by▪ you: Yet that it never shall be said, That I for Trifles Fraction made, Or stop'd the Cause from going on, Through my self-will'd opinion; I am contented to sit by, Whilst you your Humor satisfie; And to a Pint more or a Quart, Will pay my Club with all my Heart. Quoth she, that Ladies nere must Club, Has been a Custom old as Iob, Which your own Sex at first brought in, To shew your right of governing; Since when by Courtesie o'th' Nation, To treat our Sex has been a Fashion, Allow'd as fit, as to afford, The Wall or upper end o'th' Board; And 'tis this Courtesie, whose Rules Supplies the gross defects of Schools; Difference twixt Gentry makes and Trades, And Widows to take place of Maids, Makes Barons of the Sons of Peers, And tenders Homage to rich Heirs; And whats most pertinent of all, Gives to our tender Sex the Wall, And with a generous freedom treat, When ere we please to Drink or Eat; Whilst those that have refusals made, Are counted as clownish and ill bred. Quoth he, to be accompted clownish, Would not methinks so sharply punish, As that luxurious treating Folly, Do's by ensuing Melancholy: The Purse the Elders of our Tribe, Their Marrow of their Cause describe, Which can't be like the pretious Brain, Touch'd, must less lavish'd without Pain; And I methinks find a small pang, At your beginning this Harangue, The Brethren arm'd with Truth sincere, Can Strokes and Vile Reproaches bear, Most patiently support Abuses, And let their Credit suffer Bruises; Neglect Affronts through Wisdom sage, But if you touch their Purse, they rage; Then Righteous Passion straight controuls, And shews the fervour of their Souls, By Interest exposing plain, Our greatest Zeal is greatest Gain, Besides, in Drinking or in Eating, That senseless custom us'd of Treating, Was never, that I know, thought good, By▪ any of the Brotherhood; Who when we meet about a Bargain, And friendly Cheat each other for Gain, Equally use to joyn our Pence, To pay the Charge of Knipperkins, Which adds to their Community, And makes 'em frugally agree; Nor can I tell a reason why, This should not be twixt You and I; That paying of the Reckoning equal, Should be, or clownish or illegal; When doing it a Cause may be, Stronger to knit our amity, And makes that Love that's in my Breast, For kindnesses late past Increas'd, Which would each hour grow more large, The less that I am put to charge. Thought Strumpt, since the Wind sits there, I'le take the right Sow by the Ear; With Tricks and Female slights, your Curship, Will mannage like a Man of Worship; Shew th'snare from which Fools nere can get out When e're a Woman sets her Wit too't; Then seizing upon Collins Fist, She thus begun, Thou certain best Of all the Pious Flock that e're, Swet with Presbytery sincere; Forgive me that for th' Causes sake, This Tryal of thy Worth I make; And like a Gem too rich for the Buyer, Have prov'd thy merit as by Fire; For tho I've talk'd of Quarts and Pottles, And toping Mornings Draughts in Bottles, As if I had the filthy Courage, To make deboach in Nants and Burrage; Or like a Porter could Regale, With Pots of Purle, or Mugs of Ale; 'Twas but false Fire; for in reality, I'm of as niggardly a quality, As thou art, or our Tribe Divine, That on a Pilchers Head can Dine; Luxury has so little force, On me that now thy Wise Discourse, Appears a Banquet, I could Breakfast, (My longing Arms about thy Neck-fast, Wer't not for shame) with looking on, The Model of thy Outward Man; I always lov'd thy dapper size, Generally active made and wise; And better Womens Men by half, Than Lobs that play at Quarter-staff; Nature diminutively allures, As Painting do's in Miniatures; And in thy Person I can see, Her Arts sublimest Rarity, Like (f) Renaulds World engrav'd upon, The Surface of a Cherry Stone; Thy Wit denotes the airy Part, Thy Eyes, the Fire that warms each Heart; Thy Beard do's th' rugged Earth display, And th' Watry Gulph thy Mouth, the Sea. Whilst thus our Lady of the Lake, In Mistick Praise of Collin spake; His gaping Mouth so wide was spread, Twas very like a Gulph indeed; Especially with Water flowing, To hear expressions so like Wooing; The God of Love to shew his Art, So suddenly had shot his Heart; The thrilling Pangs would scarce afford, The Lover to get out a Word, Till at last rising from the Seat, The ruddy Portal of her Pate; He first Salutes, and finding she, With Smiles receiv'd the Courtesie; With clumsie hast he next begins, To rob her Tippet of its Pins; Columbus like resolv'd to know, The Secrets of the World below; Nor was she wanting in her Art, Of flattery to perform her Part; But with an artful Sigh did vow, Our Collin far excell'd a Beau; And that her Love she could not smother, To so sincere and kind a Brother: Things going thus they soon agreed, To ease their Hearts and go to▪ Bed, To manage which she desir'd leave, To go and that Affair contrive; That so less Eyes might peep upon her, And Secresie secure her Honour; To which poor Collin blind with Passion, Readily gave his Approbation; And as an earnest of his Bliss, Twice having brush'd her ore the Phiz, As often begg'd her to make hast, Thus ponder'd on the Action past: Tho now my Method of proceeding, Is by the Ignorant call'd Back-sliding; None that to knowledge have pretence, Can say, I deviate from true Sense: The Ancients, as my Father taught, Love, of all Gods, most potent thought; And that warm Fever of the Mind, A Passion of the Noblest Kind; For all their Gods and Goddesses, From highest to most low Degrees, In spite of all their Divine Nature, Were Captives made to charming Feature; Which do's inevitably prove, All things must bow to mighty Love; Like them the Features of the Fair, Have drawn my Heart into Loves Snare; Powerfully forc'd to love this Creature, Through Mystical Impulse of Nature; Our Tribes I have observ'd Love stronger, Than other Sects, and often longer: Woman, to them's a Dainty made, Which t'others is as daily Bread, Which makes us without more adoo, Say Grace and eagerly fall too; Besides, altho I make assault, Upon her Person, yet my fault Extends to no unnatural way, Like that to which Back-sliders stray: I'm for the Orthodox plain manner, Nor will put Popish Tricks upon her; Or with Italian Methods Treat her, As if she were a four Legg'd Creature; But Christian like, blunt Love persuing, Show I make Conscience of my doing; Whilst Collin thus revolving was, Upon the Merits of his Case; A Fatal Messenger do's come, Puffing and Sweating into th' Rome, Saying the Nymph was just gon out, And by him sent up a Note; Which Collin taking pale with dread, Thus with an Ague trembling, read, The Strumpets Note to Collin, My Dad was a Franciscan Fryer, My Mother a dark Entry Plyer; My self a Lifter, that have made, Thy Pocket empty as thy Head; The Iest will be found out by groping, And so Dear John, I leave thee toping. As condemn'd Fellon whose belief, Has long insisted on reprieve, Beholds to th' ruine of his Faith, A suddain Warrant for his Death; Despairing sinks, so cheated Collin Into a deadly Sound was falling; Stunn'd at the loss of Female Crony, And what much dearer was, his Mony; And now to make the Storms of Fate, Appear far more unfortunate; And prove that Proverb plainer known, That says, no Mischief comes alone; The Devil, ill Luck, and altogether, Had sent the surly Major thither; Who dogging Collin from the Play, When Strumpet sprited him away; Himself in Closet had been stowing, And spitefully heard all the Wooing; Seen Collins groping, and the Whores, With all the other past Amours; And now inslated with high Rage, Which nought but Railing could asswage; On Collin pours (half dead with anguish) This Aqua Fortis of ill Language. Fortune is kind, Iohn Presbyter, To bring me in this Crisis here, Where I with pleasure have been noting, A Member of the Saints a Goating; And seen what other things they feel, Besides the Motions of their Zeal, That 'tis not only fierce desire, Of Heaven do's their Passions fire; But carnal Deeds may sometimes set, Their Dogships in as great a swet; Their Christian Duty frames no terror, To hinder Slips of venial Error; But that a true bred Strumpet draws, Their Tribe as quickly as their Cause; After Rich Cargo in dear Sister, I prethee change me, Friend, a Tester: As Saints are stor'd with Spiritual Riches, So still with Temporal, are their Breeches; Where Purse is cram'd with Gold as full, As with Devotion is the Scull; And thou that art a Disputant, A profound Stickler as a Saint: No doubt this Female here hast drawn, To make her give some wealthy Pawn; For Lessons of Phanatick Canting, And closer Rules of Carnal Sainting: But yet methinks that Currish leer, No lucky Tokens makes appear; But rather thou hast catch'd a Tartar, And been lash'd worse, than that from Carter, By meeting one that could purloin, Not only Credit, but thy Coin; If this be true as it appears, Why dost not rowse and shake thy Ears; Rally thy Wits and tip thy Tongue, In Argument some three hours long; As thou hast us'd, and prove by Speeches, The Merit of venereal Itches; Defend the Vertues of your Elders, That get on Strumpets Hans en Kelders; And that 'tis don to clear the Reins, After long toils of Godly Pains; When th' Holder-forth that gives the Blessing, Calls Whoring Spiritual Refreshing; As thou Hypocrisie and Lying, A new found Tract of Self-denying; But as a Friend I must advise ye, To place your stif Positions wisely; For all your Majors scarce will make, Me thinks, what's past for Virtues sake; Or that this Bulker of thee Town, Came only here to rub ye down; Propos'd a Spiritual Collation, Of dull long-winded Exhortation, Meerly to know how you could chatter, But for another kind of Matter; The inward Virtues of your Purse, Ingag'd her, not your wise Discourse. Your canting Topics might have ceas'd, Or cool'd your Broth, or what you pleas'd; Had not your Mony brought the Dame, To Fan and Countenance your Flame; T'admire that shaggy Tuft of Hair, Tho black and brindled as a Bear; And swear that awker'd one-Ey'd Phiz, As charming as God Cupids is; Your Corps, too had she not intended, To cheat it, might have been suspended; Or if the Devil had come to seize ye, That Moment you had found her easie; Provided she from Charge releas'd ye, And of the Golden God had fleec'd ye; 'Twas that indulg'd alluring Arts, Not any feeling of your Parts; Tho whilst she on your Lap was dandling, I could perceive what Things were handling; From peep-Hole see how you carest her, More like a Strumpet than a Sister; Where chance did to my Eyes reveal, Th' strange stifness of Phanatick Zeal. Are these the Morals of that Tribe, Which thou so often didst describe? Is this your self denying Practice, Dissembling worser than the Fact is? He that in Corner sneaking Sins, Out-do's the lewdest Libertins; Tempts more the anger of his God, Since his Devotion is his Bawd; For t'others publick Infamy, Makes use of no Hypocrisie; Therefore for th' one deserves Heav'ns Wrath, Much less than thou hast done for both. How often hast thou been extolling, When reeking Brother has been bawling, A Lecture against Bawds and Whores, Brothels unclean and lewd Amours; Affirming th' Bishops did appear, Like Baals Priests to him stood there; That such firm Doctrin nere was read of, Tho Dr. H. shake his Head off; Look sowrer than the Switzer Cantons, And thrash his Parish to Repentance; And yet in midst of all thy Zeal, For the Old Cause and Common-weal; Tho all thy Wits so harrass'd were, To make a Rabbi of a Player; And th' Error very like to make, Thy twice drub'd Bones, a third time ake; By being expos'd to Fops and Cullies, Spruce Cittizens and Flustred Bulleis; Yet in this juncture to be drawn, Thence by a Whore, and left in pawn; To leave spiritual Intentions, To follow carnal vile Inventions; With Common Trader hold Discourse, And so unguarded leave thy Purse; Nay, be so ill contriv'd a Block-head, As not to know she pick'd thy Pocket; Is meer Enthusiasm, and to me, Shews th' Nature of Presbitery; Whom Interest and sometimes Whoring, Still vary from devout Adoring; And tho like Saints they seem to be, Are all in Corners just like thee. Quoth Collin, he that once is down On th' Earth no further can be thrown; Unless into his Grave, and there, I zealously could wish I were; Not for your sharp Rebukes or Taunts, For those are common to the Saints: But for th' abuse of couzening Female; Fram'd for Confusion sure of the Male; And moulded to allay the Joys, Without her, found in Paradise. Some twenty Winters since or more, Ere yet my Child-hood was past ore; One Evening to my Fathers House, Came a Young Tawny tatter'd Blowse; Her Skin shew'd just that coulour'd Vellam, That Wallnuts give to those that shell'em; And at her Back a Kid that cry'd, Still as she pinch'd it, fast was ty'd; With which, and wild Egyptian Jabbering, She got her Living without Labouring; She in all Fortunes good or bad, Pretented she strange Knowledge had; Could foretel loss of Maiden-heads, And Husbands give to longing Maids; And for a Tester given, declare What Colour and what Size they were; She'd tell by Lines in your left Hand, Whither you'd sell or purchase Land; What sort of Mischief should undoo Man, Whither by Trading, or by Woman; Or if your Constitution were, Fitter to Marry or forbear; Then as you did more Mony give her, Told things to come, if you'd believe her; By Dimples, ragged Warts and Moles, Declar'd the Secrets of your Souls; And to all Questions hit so right, The Country took her for a Spright. This Succubus or Demi-devil, Foretold to me my late past Evil; That in the Year of forty one, Which now my present Age I own; My Fate was fix'd to be seduc'd, And by a strange Cleft Monster chows'd; Which still I thought was ment by Witches, Wild Mares, She Monkies, or Mad Bitches; But in my Heart could nere believe, A Sister such a Devil, since Eve; For that she was one of our Tribe, Her Gesture and her Tone describe; Nor did her other Actions less, Discover she was one of us; The Saints oft take it for no failing, When Youth and Vigor are prevailing, Friendly to meet a Zealous Brother, And heartily Caress each other; When the Intreague from neither draws, Shame or discredit to the Cause; At worst 'tis but a venial Evil, But to pick Pockets, that's the Devil; The Sisters such abhorrence make, Of Theft, they rather give than take; And oftner pay for the Exploit, Than rob our Purses of a Doit; Therefore this late amphibious Beast, Was sure the Spawn of some lewd Priest; Some Rampant Scoundrel Romish Prig, Begot her on a Female Whig; And taught her to be Mercenary, And Spanniel like to fetch and carry. How well this Passage gives occasion, To Argue for Predestination; Some destin'd are to loss of Crowns, Others Repute, and twenty Pounds; Which is the same to me, as them, A Kingdom and a Diadem; And every other thing must be, Persuant to a first Decree; For had it on free Will consisted, Purse had been here, and I not mist it; My Reputation too had been, As it was wont to be, serene; Whereas in spite of my Complaints, I'm now a Scandal to the Saints; Exposing in this sort my Honour, For being taken in the manner; The foulness of my late Transgression, Being most the want of my Discretion; Crimes still are Mischiefs we expose, But that's no fault, that no one knows; Especially when it is done, Against any pow'r below the Moon: For as in Felony no Thief, Whose Stars allow him no reprieve, We find was ever hang'd for stealing, But for not luckily concealing; So 'mongst the Saints, none's disrespected, For failings, but for being detected; The Mischiefs of all Faults unknown, Being no more than Thoughts undone; How truly Happy had I been, If I this Town had never seen; But in the Country held the Plow, And prepar'd Land to Till and Sow; Secur'd my Goods or Coyn from stealing, And the Saints frailties from revealing: There in a state of Innocence, We meet and Act without Offence; No vile Detractor interloping, Nor any itching Spy Eves▪dropping; But Cordial Love and Amity, Affect both high and low Degree; The Brethren with the Sisters prove, By fervent Acts, their zealous Love; And constantly deserve Applause, For th' earnest pushing on the Cause; Whilst here in this Satanick Town, Rude Carters live to knock Men down; One walks in fear to lose ones Beard, By Rogues Intituled the Black-Guard; And if you ere expound a Text, To any of the Female Sex; 'Tis ten to one you meet a Creature, Of so deprav'd and vile a Nature, As this my late and worst of Whores, That the same time she grasps your—Purse; Shall by a Trick as strange as true, Deprive ye of your Mony too; Therefore good Major as you made me Come hither, do not now disswade me From instant leaving this vile place, Where I can't live but in disgrace; Where if I tarry I suppose, I shall to morrow lose my Nose; For Purse was quite as near to me, And yet 'tis stoln from me, you see: In th' Honest Country I was born, And to that Station must return, Where I can Things, and People find, Suiting the plainness of my Mind: I ought to talk of Hogs and Cows, Rather than Laws of th' Commons House; For bold aspiring after Fame, Has brought me to the Case I am; And whither Grumbler or the Whig, Are wiser in their Grand Intreague; I'l leave to you that Love disputes, And instantly draw on my Boots; Then Trot off from this Town of Sorrow, More Vile then Sodom or Gomorrow. This said, half tumbling o're the Chairs, For hast, Poor Collin got down Stairs; Resolving from the Town in Post, To ride within an hour at most; But how the Major stop'd his speed, Is for our second part decreed. The End of the Fourth Canto.

ANNOTATIONS TO THE FIRST CANTO OF THE FIRST PART.

(a) ABdieation, being a Word that has so unexpectedly been thought fit to serve the Nation in so Important a Juncture, tho it must needs be known to every one that understands Latin; yet 'tis fit to inform the Ignorant, that it means a Deserting or Relinquishing a Command or Government.

(b) Captain Tom, a Butcher, who in the beginning of the Late Revolution, having an occasion to dismiss the Mobile rais'd in great Numbers in Smith-Field, spoke thus, Gentlemen of the Mobility of England, I Adjourn you all till to Morrow three in the Afternoon, and take notice you are Adjourn'd accordingly.

(c) Little Shock Dogs of Bollonia, whose Noses are broken by those that sell 'em to make their Price the better; The Moors generally use their Infants so, believing a flat Nose an admirable Feature.

(d) OEconomy, ordering, or the prudent government of a Thing.

(f) Architas, a Famous Mathematician of Tarentum, Renown'd by Horace, who speaks of him in one of his Odes; he by rare Cunning delivered Plato from the Tyranny of Dionisius.

(e)Charleroy, a Town in the Low Countrys, which I could not forbear noting, by reason of the extraordinary Renown it bears in being accompted by all that are skilful in the Mathematicks, to be the most Regular Fortification in the whole World.

(g) Pentagons, Bastions, Ravellings, &c. are the Terms of Art us'd for Part of the Works belonging to a Town Fortified.

(h) This Hurling is an Ancient Sport us'd to this day in the Countys of Cornwall and Devon, where once a Year the hardy young Fellows of each County meet; and a Cork Ball thinly plated with Silver, being thrown up between 'em, they Run, Busle and Fight for it, to the witty dislocating of many a shrew'd Neck, or for the sport of telling how bravely their Arms or Legs came to be broke when they get home.

(i)Tusser was an Antique Author, famous for writing a Book of Husbandry, and was just as good a Poet for a Gardner, as our late Taylor was for a Waterman.

(k) This Conceipt is improv'd by the Story of Dioclesian, who whilst a private Captain had this Augury spoke to him by a Sibil, Imperator eris cum Aprum interfeceris, which he mistaking for a Forest Boar, went dayly a Hunting, making great slaughter amongst 'em, but without any Success, till at last fighting with Volutius Aper, the right Boar was slain, and the Sibils words fulfill'd.

(l) Drexelius, a Reverend and Worthy Divine, that writ an admirable Book upon Eternity.

(m) Cornelius Agrippa, was accompted a Magician at one and twenty Years Old, for writing his Book of Occult Philosophy.

(n) Zoroaster and Hermes Trismegistus, were two of the first Learned Men that treated of Magick, striving to prove it only the highest and most sacred Philosophy; and that the Name Magician siginifies only a Wise Man, a Priest, a Prophet; and that they were ancieently receiv'd and honour'd by all Learned Philosophers, commended by Divines, and not unacceptable to the Gospel; tho a great many supercilious Censurers, will have 'em to be Sorcerers, and wicked Dealers with the Devil, tempted thereto by Ambition or Interest.

(o) Hannibal or Annibal, the greatest General of the Carthaginians, was sworn by his Father at first taking up Arms, to be ever a mortal Enemy to the Romans.

(p) A great part of the Majors grumbling Discourse here was transvers'd from Dialogues of some Church Men, (as their Habits declar'd 'em) perform'd in a Coffee-House in the City, who I could wish would take honest Collins Advice, Page 38. to be,

—For Union in the Main, What ere Opinion they maintain.

(q) The seven Sacraments of the Romish Church, which they hold to be instituted by Iesus Christ, and necessary to the Salvation of Man-kind, tho not all of them necessary to every Man.

ANNOTATIONS TO THE SECOND CANTO.

(a) ST. Dunstan was Arch-Bishop of Cant. and weilded the Crosier about the Year—a St. of that Purity of Life as the Romanists have render'd, and withall so Artful in Dispute, that once after a long Argument with the Devil, he forc'd him to own himself confuted, which the vulgar Opinion is, he did, by taking him by the Nose with a great Pair of red-hot Tongs.

(b) Herbert in his Book of his Travels relates this pleasant Custom of the Ethiopians, which he says was judiciously us'd to prevent Sodomy; the Bruitish Men that Inhabit the Country, being much more inclin'd to make Cattamites their Mistresses, than Beautiful Women their Wives, which intolerable injury to Honour and Nature, the Poor neglected Females, strove to redress by inventing a Courtesie, whose tempting Quality they believ'd most likely to draw 'em back to their Duty: To this effect came out an Edict from a certain Queen, Regent there, who the better to allure the Inhabitants from that unnatural Guilt, ordain'd for the Women a certain Habit so straight and narrow, that every Motion expos'd their most secret Beauties to the Eye of every Spectator.

(c) This Passage of Collins Whipping, is in imitation of a real Scuffle that I saw happen between a Carman and a Country Fellow, who amongst a great many others, as it is their daily Custom, was staring and wondring at the Figures that strook the Quarters upon the Bell.

(d) Here I could not help doing my self the Honour of particularly imitating the Famous Mr. Butler in his Hudibras, who in describing the Combat betwixt the Knight and Talgol, whom he had certainly slain; but— Pallas in the shape of Rust, &c. page—

(e) Peter Aretine, A Famous Italian Poet and Painter, who for Publishing a Book of shameful Nudities and Postures, was doom'd by the Senate to have his Eyes put out.

(f) Anthropophagi are a Barbarous People of Scithia, who delight so extreamly to feed upon Human-Flesh, that they make perpetual War with their Neighbours meerly for the Lust of Eating, all whom they Kill or take Prisoners.

(g) Domitian the Emperor, at his idle Hours would often descend to the petty Tyranny of torturing Flies, about which noble Enterprize he would oft employ himself alone in his Chamber some hours together, insomuch as once when one enquired whether any were within with Caezar, Crispus (in waiting) made answer, Ne Musca quidem.

(h) Dirundan was the Name of the Sword of Orlando Furioso, as the renowned Italian Poet Ariosto mentions it in his History.

(i) Don Quixot de la Mancha's Tilt with the Wind-mills, is so obvious to every one, that it would be impertinent to note it further.

(k) Alluding to his freeing the Slaves that were doom'd to the Gallies mention'd in the—Chapter of the History of Don Quixot.

(l) Fulvia, the Concubine of Quintus Curius, one of the chief Conspirators with Cataline, who according to the Custom of Iilts, slighting her Gallant because his Treasure was exhausted, was by him, to regain her Favour, inform'd of the Conspiracy, which she as soon as known declares to the Consul, not through any point of Honour or Justice, but like a right Woman, through Vanity, that she might take place of Sempronia and Catiline's Mrs. Aurelia Orestilla.

(m) In Ben Iohnsons Tragedy of Catiline, Cicero's Oration to the Senate, and several other Speeches are translated from his own Latin, and that of Salust Word for Word.

(n) Palinode signifies a recanting or unsaying of what has been spoken or writ before.

ANNOTATIONS TO THE THIRD CANTO.

(a) THE Major in this place seems to make a reflection upon some late Passages of Cuckoldom publickly expos'd in Westminster-Hall, which being so generally known, I think improper to explain further.

(b) This reflects upon an Observation on some Fresh-Water Officers, whom lately in the Court of Requests in my hearing were severely descanting upon the Conduct and Proceedings of Duke Schomberg, bitterly inveighing against his Slowness in giving Battle, and tainting his fifty Years Experience, with a bold affirmation of what they would Instantly perform if they were in his Post.

(c) In the same place a Comical Red Nos'd Fellow that sells Brandy in or near Bucklers-Bury in London, was vehemently sputtering his Indignation against the Tax of two Shillings in the Pound, withall, politickly affirming, that to his knowledge the Parliament might maintain the War at a far less Expence to the Subject.

(d) Several Famous Authors affirm, that the Ancient Egyptians held an Onion in such veneration, that some of the bigotted sort in a ridiculous manner us'd to kneel down and Worship it.

(e) This is a new Invention for the Ladies to dress their Heads upon, by the convenience of which the whole Dress may in a Minute be taken off, or put on without any trouble.

(f) Pliny and Solinus make mention of diverse Hairy Nations; and Lycosthenes Writes of a certain Island, the Inhabitants whereof have all their Parts, except their Faces and Palms of their Hands, cover'd over with long Hair; part of the Hide of such a Savage, a certain Sarmatian sent unto Ulisses Aldrovandus, and is kept in the Musaeum of the Bononian Senate: These kind of Wild Men were first seen at Bononia, when the beautiful Marchioness of Soranium coming thither, was nobly receiv'd by the Illustrissimo Marcus Casalius, who brought with her a Hairy Girl of eight Years of Age, being the Daughter of a Wild Man born in the Canaries, whose Effigies Aldrovand. in Monst. Hist. Aldrovandus expos'd to the view of all his Friends as a great Rarity; there are, as Eusebius also writes, in the East and West Indies, Wild Men who are born smooth like our Infants, but as they grow up have Hair covering their whole Bodies.

(g) This was from an Observation occasion'd by the Russian Embassador, who was here about the Year 1678. who amongst other places visiting Suttons Hospital, in the chief Room chanc'd to see his Picture drawn, with a great Beard, which gave the Embassador (who himself wore a very large one) occasion to reflect on the English for leaving off so graceful an Ornament, that their Ancestors so highly esteem'd, till one that stood by wittily answer'd by his Interpreter, The very Goats here wore Beards, which made the Natives count 'em the less Ornament or Honour.

(h) This I can no further affirm, than▪ that in the Country of Asia where this Queen reign'd, a venerable Author Writes of Women generally having Beards, and consequently she amongst therest, for I'l not bate her a Hair for her Quality.

(i) Several Old Women suspected for Witches in and about Lancashire have been often noted to have Beards of considerable growth, tho that's no general Rule, some of the Reverend and Vertuous being often liable to the same.

(k) The Salique Law was made to hinder the Crown of France from falling from the Sword to the Spinning Wheel, i. e. That it never should be inherited by Women; it is called Salique, either from these Words, si aliqua very often us'd in the said Law, or from the River Sala, near unto which the Franks anciently inhabited.

(l) This was a piece of Policy in Oliver Cromwell, who whilst the long Parliament sat, and the principal Affairs of State were acting, publish'd an Order for banishing all the Ladies of the Cavalier Party out of London and the Suburbs, that their Wit or Beauty might have no occasion or opportunity to influence his Friends against him.

(m) To discuss Truth from falsehood in any Speech, is one of the two Ends or Offices of Logick, as the other is to teach a compendious Way to attain any Art or Science, by shewing the Method to be observ'd in coming to the perfect knowledge of them.

(n) Predicables are certain Degrees of Words that are of one Affinity, shewing which comprehend more, and which less; there are five of them in Logick, viz, Genus, Species, Differentia, Proprium and Accidens.

(o) Ignatius Loyola the Father and Founder of the Jesuits, tho never so shrew'd a Disputant in his Lucid Intervals, yet was by several less bigotted Writers of his own Order at other times accompted little less than a Madman.

(p) The infalibillity of Pope Ioan has been so publickly expos'd, I think it needs no further Comment.

(q. r.) A little Treatise of Martin Luthers to Cardinal Borachio, confutes admirably the Arguments of St. Ignatius concerning the Sacrifice of the Mass; and this Story of Loyola's beating the Devil, is recorded by the Romanists themselves in the History of his Life, where Page80. we have an account of the Devils appearing to him, indeavouring to disturb him in his Prayers, and was by him as often as he came, very well Cudgell'd and Drub'd away, which if I have chang'd into a Boxing bout to adapt it the nearer to my Poem, I hope the Author has receiv'd no Injury, and that the Reader will forgive me.

(s) Causin and Cressy, two Jesuitical Writers, and great Asserters of Romish Miracles.

(t) The Original of this Story of St. Clare, may be found in Cressy's History, page 411. amongst many other of the same Nature, just as true as this.

ANNOTATIONS TO THE FOURTH CANTO.

(a) THis Passage may be found in the History of Don Iohn de Castro, written by——which confirms the great value the Portuguese and Spaniards put upon their Beards, which Punctilio they held to so severe a Degree amongst 'em in general, that when one Le Rock, a Famous Banditti, was taken and Condemn'd to be Executed at a certain day for several insolent Robberies and Murders, yet pawning a Tuft of his Beard to his Keeper, that if he would let him in the interim go abroad and dispatch a small Affair, he would return punctually to the time; it was granted him; and having ended his Business came honourably back that very Morning to redeem his Whisker, and was accordingly Executed.

(b) The Character of an Impudent Play-House Orange Wench, being there every day acted, I think needs no further Comment.

(d) Alexander White and Peter Herrigone, two very Famous and Learned Mathematicians.

(e) These Grandees are meant by Oliver Cromwells Privy Council, who after they had been laying the Scene of some brave Fellows Ruin, frequently fell to drinking, and in the middle of their Cups, their chief diversion was to knock one another off the Chairs with Cushions.

(f) Renauldus or Rhinaldus, an exquisite Germain Artist, that Engrav'd the World so Artificially on a Cherry-Stone, that as a Famous Antique Author reports, there might plainly be dicern'd each particular Kingdom or Country—Believe as you think good, &c.

FINIS.